Children of the Ages
by RisingWinter
Summary: Seven children, separated by two continents and three hundred years, search each other out to solve a mystery that encompasses ten millennia, four timelines, and a missing moon. Toan is considered a lunatic, Luneth can't sit still, and Max and Monica are lost in time. Crossover between Final Fantasy III, Dark Cloud, and Dark Chronicle.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Cloud, Dark Chronicle, or Final Fantasy III.

" _Maybe history, as you know it, isn't the one true history." – Max_

Cold. All coming back in a brisk rush of _cold_.

Wind, she remembered the wind, brushing over her father's balcony on its timeless journey to nowhere.

Time. She remembered time, going home through a cloud of red, coming back through one of blue…

One hundred years. But there was something else she remembered, something she desperately wanted to remember, though she didn't know why. If she could just reach it, that phantom right on the edge of her memory…

A bedtime story, from her favorite voice of all times. A story about a war eight hundred years ago, about a prince turned king who lost himself to darkness, and could only be brought to see it by an assassination attempt by one of his own subjects. The assassin was foiled by a beautiful princess the king had been courting, though she nearly died for it. It was close and almost ended badly, but then together, they built a kingdom…

The story always ended there, and she remembered feeling like there was always something more. But father was always sad at the end, so she never asked.

Now she would never be able to.

… Why couldn't she ask?

Because…

Because he'd been killed. Murdered by a man in red. _Gaspard._

Name. Names. Names were important. Feeling was returning to her, she could feel coarse grass beneath her gloved hands…

What was her name?

"Mo–" she coughed, throat dry and scratchy, "Monica." Monica Raybrandt. Right.

Now it came back. Her mission in the past, meeting and enlisting Elena's son, Max. The war against Griffon, Sirus, the moon, the decision to go back… and a fat pink genie at the bottom of Zelmite Mine. What _was_ that?

… And what had happened after they'd beaten it?

They. She and Max.

Monica snapped out of her semi-conscious haze, pushing her drowsy limbs to get _up_. Where was–

Oh, phew. Max lay just a few feet away, snoozing peacefully. They were safe.

… And maybe lost, she noted as she stared up, and up, and _up_ at the single building in sight. A lone tower piercing the sky, rising further than she could see.

What happened…?

 _The pink genie chortled even as its form wavered, barely able to hold together after the damage it had taken. And she thought it had been over, all the pain from this endless war across the eons._

" _You made the Dark Element?" Max said, horrified._

 _Turned out there was still one more loose end._

 _The chortle grew to a full-on laugh, the genie's body was solidifying again… it was regenerating. And retreating, the ground beneath it collapsing with the roar of an avalanche._

 _Escape? As if she'd let it! Monica didn't hesitate, dashing toward the pit. She couldn't see the bottom, and didn't care. So long as this thing was alive, there could be another Griffon._

 _Yeah, right!_

 _Max was right behind her, "He's getting away!"_

" _No he's not!" One last step, foot hooked around the ledge to give her one last push–_

 _And she was hurtling into darkness._

Monica remembered blurry changes of light and dark after that, some frantic voices, and the briefest glimpse of bunny ears… and then nothing. Nothing between that, and waking up here.

Wherever 'here' was.

She could hear bells, their soft tolls ringing from – probably somewhere inside the building. Though she considered herself to be on her feet, she felt more like she was several miles above ground, the way her head was so light and airy. Moving toward Max's body, she kept her eyes on the green and yellow grass beneath her feet.

The atmosphere was too _grey_ , too washed out. She thought of Kazarov and its monochrome landscape, with pale blue stones alone in the silver sand.

"Max," she said, clearing her throat and sliding down beside his oh-so-quietly breathing body. Coughing, swallowing, she tried again. "Max, wake up. Please."

"… Monica?" he murmured into the grass.

"Yes! Yes, it's me."

His eyes cracked open, and his mouth worked, sluggish. "Where are we?"

"I was hoping you would know."

"It's not the mines."

Monica choked, a strange laugh stuck in her throat. Eyes moving up and away, Max's jaw fell slack. "Oh, wow. That's a big tower."

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Max laughed a little, resting his hands behind his head. "I guess normal is overrated."

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"Look at us. No matter what we do, it appears we'll never get much of a chance at a normal life. Every time we think we might settle down for once, something like this happens. Did you also black out?"

"Yes." Monica stretched her neck to look upward, hunting for any sign of the massive spike in the clouds ending. "Mn, not looking very good for us, is it?"

Max jumped to his feet. "Well," he said, "we're not going to get anywhere just laying here. Let's check it out."

Huge double-doors parted for them as they approached, and entering through they found glowing lamps guiding their way to the end, where a solitary suit of armor stood etched into the stone in a small alcove.

"What is it, do you think?" Max asked.

"Plate mail." There was nothing exceptional about it. Her old home had more impressive displays. Well, she thought to herself with a grimace, _would_ have more impressive displays, given several decades. Or _did_ it have them? Or were they still in the same time? Monica grimaced. Her head hurt from the thought. "It's not very well cared for," she noted.

"No, that's not what I mean. Don't you feel that?"

"Feel…?" Monica glanced around. Moss crept in through so many of the cracks, the stones were large and uneven beneath her feet. But nothing _felt_ \- "Oh."

That familiar taste of _dark_.

"Got your sword?"

"Of course. Wrench?"

"Always."

As expected, the circle turned out to be a platform of some sort that jolted to life the moment they stepped on, and zoomed up into an endless shaft.

It was a bit like the Moon Flower Palace, Monica thought as they stepped onto the first floor, except that there was a lot less color. While the walls were made entirely of stone and pillars and grand arches, it didn't have any of the glass and carpet from the Palace. The walls had discolored with age, and Monica couldn't help but feel just a little uneasy, wondering about their structural integrity.

"Something's not right," Max muttered.

Another presence entered the hall. "I am inclined to agree."

Monica snapped into a defensive stance at the deep, unfamiliar voice. At her side, Max mirrored her. The speaker, a figure in a heavy cloak and dark armor, emerged from the shadows, stopping under the dusty light of a stained glass window.

"Who're you?" Max asked.

"A temporary caretaker for this place, while its master is away," the man replied, "The Crystals tell me that you were lost to time, and so they pulled you here. You were chosen by two of them, correct?"

Monica frowned, "Are you… talking about the Atlamillia?"

"It is so. This is their touchstone, and now that you are here, they are silent. I suspect they had no intent beyond anchoring you in time. If you are lost, however, I am certain I can point you back home."

"We came from Palm Brinks," Max said, "Do you know where that is?"

"Palm Brinks…" the man was silent for a moment, and then nodded, "Yes, a small village near the western coast, north of the mountains that border the desert. It is on the opposite end of the continent as here – you have a long walk ahead of you."

"A small village?" Monica questioned, incredulous.

Max added, "Near the coast?"

"It is certainly not within sight of the ocean," the man said, "I meant only to say that it is near the continent's edge. And yes, the last I knew, it was quite a small village."

"That can't be right."

"It _is_ pretty small," Monica said, "But I definitely wouldn't call it a village. It's a town, at least. Hey, mister, do you know much about recent historical events?"

"I'm afraid I have been away from the world for many years. However, it would not surprise me if the Crystals have not precisely pinpointed your temporal origin – it may be that Palm Brinks has grown a great deal in the time I've been away, or it may be that you have fallen into the past or future, relative to where you started."

Max groaned, "Aw, man, I hope not."

"It doesn't really matter," Monica said, "We were chasing a fat pink genie – do you know where it might have gone?"

The man tilted his head, "A… sorry, what?"

"A fat pink genie," Max said, "It tried to destroy the world. It's probably going to try again."

The man stiffened, and went quiet again. Monica noticed, and pounced, "You know something! What is it?"

"I believe I am familiar with the being of which you speak. It has indeed surfaced recently in this world, in Queens."

"… Queens?"

"Yes, Queens. Your capital. I assume you're familiar with it."

Monica exchanged a glance with Max.

The man sighed, "Certainly displaced in time, then. Queens lies on the west coast, north of Palm Brinks. I suspect your village – or town – will be among the first to feel the effects of this manifestation. If you wish to vanquish it, you need merely follow the sunset until you reach the sea. Once you get close, I am certain your foe will rise to meet you – it has an eternal vendetta against those chosen by the Crystals. It will not pass up any opportunity to destroy you, and it will change nothing that you do not possess an Atlamillia at this moment."

"That's perfect," Monica said.

"Er…"

"Thank you, sir. Let's go, Max."

"Thank you!" Max said, waving at the man as he followed Monica.

* * *

He watched the two children go, and discarded the impulse to call them back. They had not balked at the idea of being displaced in time – evidently, they were familiar with travel between years. Furthermore, their readied stances at his approach spoke quite clearly of combat experience, underscored by the immense power that flowed through their weapons.

Yes, they surely needed no further aid from him. Likely, they had faced the Cloud at least once already. And now chased it further. Besides, in all likelihood, they would return here after their business on the coast was finished.

 _I suppose the Crystals did have a purpose for bringing them here, beyond simply removing them from the timeless void._

Not that the Crystals spoke to him much, of late. The chill in his veins kept their voices at bay, whispering to him in their place.

He sighed, turning to pace aimlessly through Demon Shaft's labyrinthine halls. He hoped those children would succeed, and then find a path back to whenever they called home. It was exceedingly difficult to walk across the eons without the aid of a crystal, but to those who knew to look, there were always ways.


	2. Chapter 2

" _Did this amazing adventure happen or not? No one can say for sure." -_ Max

Wind whistled in the trees, bringing the scent of pine needles and snow. So much snow that Arc shivered as he pulled his coat in tighter. The area had grown much colder since they left, but he supposed that was to be expected. Being so high in the air, of course there would be such a dramatic change in temperature between here and the World Below. People down there would walk around in only a couple layers of clothes in the fall. After getting used to the climate down there, it was all Arc could do just to brace himself for the blasting cold of the Floating Continent.

But then, it was that same blasting cold that felt like home.

Arc pulled some snow closer to him. It didn't take a gesture, or even a thought. Like moving his legs, he just looked and it moved of its own accord, beckoned by his simple desire to have it.

Flakes swirled near, some turning into small shapes akin to spheres near him. An air current around him formed from the drift, flowing around and around his torso. Arc stopped pulling in and simply let the spinning current stay.

They were going downhill, but it still took some effort to trudge along in the meter-high snow. And then there was Luneth, who didn't seem to notice the knee-high drifts. Instead he lighted upon the surface, snow shoes sliding along like they were walking on dirt. He had been given those from a villager in their travels - a girl that felt so grateful for their help, she scrounged up the only possessions she could part with. And gave them especially to Luneth.

Arc sighed. Luneth drew people in like a magnet. He attracted them with his enthusiasm and energy and warmth.

Snow pecked Arc's cheek as if in emphasis, to say that Arc wasn't a warm person. The snow twirling and dancing in the air about him moved faster as it caught a gust that swept in from the north.

"Hey," Luneth said.

Before Arc had a chance to respond, Luneth formed a large snowball in his hand and chucked it at him.

Instincts reacting faster than his limbs, Arc yanked snow from around him, forming a shield just in time for Luneth's ball to smack into it. "Hey-!" he started as the shield fell away.

Luneth pitched again.

Arc responded with another shield. He supposed he could tell Luneth to stop…

… But he wasn't about to back down from a challenge.

Luneth darted to the side and Arc dropped his shield, spinning on his feet to keep up with Luneth's position. Another snowball formed in Luneth's hand. Arc cursed, throwing up another shield. As soon as the shield sounded with the dull impact of another snowball, Arc compressed it down into a small, more compact shape. He then hurled that at Luneth.

He jumped at that, rolling out of the way. Arc took the opening and tossed another snowball. It hit Luneth in the leg as he leaped to his feet. "Tch-!"

Arc grinned, preparing another one.

Luneth was faster. A snowball materialized in his hands and he pitched. It smacked Arc's shoulder, and he grunted, preparing another attack.

"Oh, no you don't!" Luneth shouted, throwing up a dozen snowballs at once.

Arc choked, lobbing that last one before breaking into a run. What a disadvantage, with Luneth's stupid snowshoes. To counterbalance the issue, Arc turned sage. The robes were heavy, but thanks to the downhill slope, all he needed was some good sliders and that would become a non-issue. He formed snow over his feet as he ran and then compressed that into hard ice, with tails extending on the front and back of both feet.

A ball nailed him in the back, but he barely noticed. Soon he was sliding along, and then speeding down the hill. To keep up momentum, Arc moved the snow up and down before him, shifting it out of the way to form steeper inclines and declines. Snowballs sped ahead of him, hitting trees and rocks.

"Cheater!" Luneth shouted from behind.

"Says the one shooting more than one at a time!" Arc replied, twisting around some trees, pushing the snow behind him to keep moving. "What warranted this?!"

"Boredom!"

Arc shook his head as another ball smacked his arm. The light of Cid's village was coming up close now. He could make out the outlines of the roofs and people hustling about and getting ready to turn in for the night.

When did it get that late? Arc hunched over a touch, melting his feet. Ice cracked and splintered, the tips of his sliders flying off and throwing off his balance. He jumped as the last of it split free and he landed on his feet in the road. He found himself in front of the frozen fountain in town square.

Villagers startled, some casting wary looks their way. Perhaps it was a little strange to see such a spectacle, robes and all.

"Gotcha!"

Arc was tackled to the ground with pounds of snowballs burying him under their weight.

* * *

"Honestly!" Mrs. Cid huffed. "You two are going to get yourselves seriously hurt."

Arc sheepishly ducked his head, clutching his tea closer, willing it to warm his puffy fingers that seemed to silently agree with Mrs. Cid.

"We were just having some fun," Luneth protested. "Right, Arc?"

He glanced between Mrs. Cid and Luneth and slowly nodded. "We were."

Mrs. Cid scoffed. "Fun, was it? Will it be fun when you catch pneumonia and are forced to lay in bed all day?"

Luneth made a choking sound. "We're more careful than that! Come on, we're the Warriors of Light, after all!"

"If the crystal wanted someone invincible," Mrs. Cid said, "then they would have found some ancients. Now drink your tea, it's getting cold."

They both obliged. Arc didn't care much for the blend – it tasted too strongly of mint – but he didn't complain. It was hot and fresh.

"So," Cid said, shifting his weight away from the counter. "You got our message then?"

"Mm." Luneth set his tea down – he never was much of a fan. "You said you had a book?"

Cid nodded, pulling a tattered book off the shelf beside him. "Not a book so much," he said. "More like a journal."

Arc watched Cid take a mug of ale from the counter, mustache twitching as he swished the brew in his hands. Beside Arc, Luneth shifted impatiently in his seat. They waited for an explanation, but none was obviously forthcoming. "Sorry, it's a what?" Arc asked.

Cid reluctantly turned to face them again, fingers tracing the edges of the book, brushing off lingering dust. "A journal," he said. "An old one. Your father's."

"Mine?" Luneth and Arc asked at the same time.

Cid hesitated, then pointed at Arc. "His."

Luneth deflated a little. Arc looked down at the worn journal, whose cover might have once been brown leather. Now it was more of a gray-purple, discolored in hues of black and gray. One corner was a little rounder and rougher and totally blackened.

"Found it after the crash," Cid said, bringing it and the ale over to his seat. It creaked a little under his weight. "I went looking afterward to see if there was anything left to salvage; parts, belongings, valuables. Not much was left save this blasted thing. So many lives that were lost, and yet…" He shook his head. "Never mind all that. It's here." Cid handed the journal to Arc, who took it with careful hands.

"How'd you know it was mine?" Arc asked.

"I read it. Very interesting stuff."

"Like what?" Luneth asked as Arc opened the cover. Cid shrugged.

The pages seemed okay, if a little yellowed from age. The ink had faded considerably, but not beyond readability. The edges of the paper were torn and tattered, some parts burnt and flaking off. _I set out this morning with Arc,_ it read. _We've already cleared Norune._

"Do you know where he came from?" Arc asked. "I don't recognize any of these names."

"Not those first ones, no," Cid said. "But he comes here later. You'll know what he's talking about then."

"'Here?'" Luneth asked. "You mean there's a 'there?' Where?"

Cid shrugged again. "I don't know. Another land, I guess."

"Wow! Why didn't you tell us before?"

"Forgot. Wasn't gonna give it to you as waddling babes, in case you hurt it or went lookin' for a dead man. But just found it again in the pantry the other day, figured it was time."

Luneth cast Arc an excited look. "The scholars in Saronia will be happy," Arc said. "I've been wanting to find something to submit to their archives for a while."

Luneth's grin vanished and he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, good!" Mrs. Cid said. "You're helping in the efforts down there?"

Arc nodded. "I'm hoping to join the Great Library next year."

"Good goal," Cid said. "I don't understand it, but who am I to judge? Not everyone can get into airships."

"Have you been able to get in touch with that friend of yours?" Arc asked.

Cid shook his head. "He's been back for a while, but hasn't responded to my message yet. Darn fool, looking for trouble. If you're gonna build a ship, give it to someone younger with more wanderlust, and take the money to give yourself a better house or renovation. Only gonna get himself hurt, he is. And he has a child to watch over still."

"Yeah," Luneth said. "We could always use more ships. We'll just take it for our fleet."

" _Saronia's_ fleet," Arc corrected him. "We only borrow them."

"They barely use them!"

"They use them more than we do," Arc said. "For Alus' envoys and conferences."

Luneth muttered under his breath. Arc only caught the words "waste" and "privileged."

"Luneth," Mrs. Cid said. "Your tea. Drink. It's good for you."

Still grumbling, Luneth lifted his drink to his lips, visibly suppressing a shudder as he took a sip. "It's still our fleet. Saronia just borrows them."

"Anyway," Cid said, taking a swig of ale. "This journal might be a little hard to understand. Talks about a lot of things, it does, and there are lot of things it doesn't talk about. And it all makes _one_ thing obvious."

"What?" Arc asked.

"Why," Cid said, leaning in, "that this journal has a brother."

* * *

Toan breathed deep the scents of fresh spring, resting against a tree by the pond. His hook was in the water, but it wasn't baited. Xiao was nestled by his side, all curled in on herself as she napped. It was much harder for her to communicate since she'd returned to her cat form, and hard for him to talk much to her without drawing concerned looks from Pike, Paige and Laura, and disturbingly knowing nods from Gaffer and Hag. Gina seemed to think it was some kind of game, and so had Carl for a little while, before Alnet had pulled him aside one day.

Now Carl loved to loudly declare that he was too old for games like that.

They likely wouldn't have even noticed how much he talked to Xiao, if he hadn't tried to talk to his mother about the second moon that should be in the sky, and the events that led up to its disappearance. About the fake genie that destroyed every city on the continent, and his quest to go back in time and prevent it from ever existing.

As it turned out, when something never existed, people tended not to remember it.

It looked like that was what had happened with the blue moon, too. Toan was relieved that it wasn't the yellow moon that had disappeared – there were people on that one – but how could erasing the Dark Genie in Seda's time affect a _moon_?

What could he do? Toan didn't have the Atlamillia anymore, or any idea where to go. He still had the Chronicle Two at least, but he hadn't seen the Fairy King since coming back to Norune, and although Xiao definitely remembered their journey, he had no idea if anyone else did.

"Maybe we just shouldn't worry about it," he said, even though Xiao was sleeping. There was no one nearby, and he often felt like no one heard him when he talked, anyway, "I don't think anyone was living there. It's probably fine."

Xiao shifted, purring.

"What if the moon isn't the only thing that disappeared, though? I mean, people have talked about Matataki, so we know that's still here, but what about Queens? Muska Racka? If they're gone, we'd never even know."

"Talking to yourself again, Toan?"

Xiao jumped, and Toan sighed. Mom leaned against the tree above him, and he could feel her gaze against his head. Xiao moved between them – she tended to do that, ever since she realized how the villagers were starting to see Toan. Placing herself in front of him whenever someone approached.

Unless that someone was Gina. She seemed to like Gina, though Toan wasn't sure why.

"Xiao," he said, as his mother warily eyed the cat, "Please."

Xiao stood in place for a moment longer, then backed away.

"She's pretty smart," Mom said. She sounded exhausted, and Toan wished he could just take back everything he'd told her. He should have stopped talking the moment he realized she didn't remember – why on Blue Terra did he think she would _understand_?

He reeled back his line, and got to his feet, "I know she doesn't talk, Mom, but it feels like she listens. That helps."

It wasn't strictly a lie, but Mom still frowned as if he'd just told her… well, as if he'd just said that a fat pink genie once rained fiery death on Norune in a time that didn't exist anymore. She didn't mention it, though, instead pulling a small, worn book from behind her back, and handing it to Toan, "I'd like you to read this."

He nodded as he looked over the book's dark binding. There were little etched patterns around the edges, but no title. It was thin, fraying at the seams, and the pages were yellow and crinkled. What–

"It's your father's journal, Toan."

Toan snapped his head up.

"I know," Mom said, "I've always wondered when the time would come to tell you about him. I think this is it."

The small, thin book suddenly felt like a brick in his hands. Xiao meowed questioningly.

"Yes," Toan said absently, "Of course I'll read it out loud."

And cringed as he realized what he just said.

His mother shut her eyes, leaning heavily against the tree. Toan clutched the book close to his chest, muttered an apology, and hurried home.

* * *

 _I do not see the point of this exercise, but my teacher is often so obtuse. Though even calling him a 'teacher' seems to me to be a stretch of the definition. I have not seen him in a month, which I believe should be an unusual occurrence between mentors and their students._

 _But I do not expect him back until it has been at least half a year._

 _That said, I feel I must justify his absence. He is not typical to begin with, by any description. Firstly by not being human, and secondly by associating with us regardless. And while it is one matter that an owl or firbit should leave their fair dungeons to make a home among we human–kind, it is another entirely for the Fairy King himself to leave the deepest levels of those realms to deign to speak with one such as I. Let alone to take the time to give me advice on matters of the mystic._

 _Perhaps one day, when I have obtained the legendary Chronicle II sword, I shall run him through with it for being so roundabout._

 _I jest, of course. Unlike many foolhardy adventurers – those that cannot distinguish between a mad Tuesday and a sane one – I would not attack a lord of the dungeons without a most compelling reason. And while it is not unusual for corruption to find its way into the lesser monsters of the dungeon, such that they must be destroyed, I can hardly imagine circumstances so dire that such darkness could find its way into the great Master Utan, let alone the Fairy King._

 _Though the power such a being could imbue into a weapon is… well, I would not know. But I imagine it to be a great deal._

 _I come now to the city of Queens, and shall write again at a later time._

Xiao pushed her head against his chin, forcing Toan to look away from the book. He obligingly closed it – though kept two fingers inside to mark his place – and sat back, looking down at the cat, "What?"

"Meow?"

"I'm sorry," Toan said, pushing her off as she started to sit on his wrist, "I don't know what the question is."

Xiao slapped the book's cover with her paw, "Mrrow."

"The book?"

She shook her head. No.

"The Fairy King?"

Still not the question.

"… My dad?"

"Meow!"

Toan frowned, "What about him?"

Xiao just plopped down on top of his wrist, purring.

"I don't really remember him. He left when I was little, and all Mom's ever said about him is that he traveled a lot."

" _Mrrow._ "

An endless tower came to mind. Floor after floor of breathless fights and intricate stonework, pushing through a labyrinth of stained and dusted light. A platform carrying the six of them ever higher until…

"Yes," Toan said quietly, "I think that was him. In Demon Shaft."

"Purrl."

"Ugh, good thing I didn't mention that part to Mom. The Dark Genie is one thing, but I do _not_ want to know how people would look at me if I went around saying that I killed my father."

"Mrr."

"I don't really want to think about it, Xiao." Toan pulled the book back open, "Mom should be okay – I think he's been dead to her for a long time already. And I… well, this is probably the closest I'll ever be to the man he was before he left. Whatever brought him to Demon Shaft – that, I don't want to know."

Hopefully he didn't actually try to kill the Fairy King. But considering the monster they'd faced at the top of Demon Shaft, Toan wouldn't be surprised if he had.

He shook that thought away, and continued reading.

* * *

Hours ticked away as he went through the journal. His father, Aga, had traveled all across Blue Terra, even building a ship like the one in the Sun and Moon Temple – except it could only cross oceans, rather than going all the way to the moons – and using it to range out further west than Queens. He spoke of lands far away, across the ocean, and of a giant island that floated in the sky above it. He made friends and enemies in dozens of villages and cities, but only rarely traveled with other people, and never stayed with them long.

Though what most piqued Toan's curiosity was how Aga referred to the Fairy King. It was a near match with what Toan had observed of the old, robed figure, except that while Toan found him to be… long–winded, to put it kindly, he'd always been very direct and specific. Atlamillia works like this, this is how you infuse power into weapons, escaping dungeons goes just so. Yet his father consistently described him as approaching everything in an annoyingly circuitous manner, and never once spoke to his habit of rambling on, and on… and on…

 _I have never encountered a yammich. They inhabit the most peaceful dungeon I know of, the realm of the Divine Beast Dran. Yet the monsters there have grown restless, and one such has gone so far as to leave the caves. I have learned, from the dwindling number of travelers, that the villagers there are so accustomed to peace that they know nothing of how to combat creatures turned evil._

 _I find I can hardly conceive of the notion. Looking down on the village from the cliffs that surround it on all sides, I can see only one exit._

 _I can see only a killing ground._

 _Much has occurred since I last wrote. Just as I finished my last entry, the rogue yammich appeared at the very gate I had noted to be the only escape. It must have found somewhere to hide during the day, and I could see then that what I feared had come to be. I know not what a normal yammich seems as, but I could recognize that malevolence anywhere._

 _The impossibly thin monster floated over the grass as if untouched by the substance of mortal things – perhaps it was – sending all the villagers running to their homes. I jumped from the cliff to the roof of the highest building, but not to the ground. I had learned at Sasune how inconvenient it was to move at ground level in the midst of hysteria._

 _Rather, I made my way across rooftops to reach the monster. It continued to glide, seeming oblivious to the panicked villagers. It may have been a humorous spectacle, were it not for the chill about my feet and crawling over my neck. Not a true chill to steal away warmth and turn the air to pale clouds, no. This was a phantom cold that brushed just lightly against the skin and left you snatching for warmth that it had not taken._

 _A ghost to make you jump at shadows, though the two are not close to the same thing._

 _I neared my target, when a startling scene made me stop._

 _How quickly I had accepted and even assumed the idea that no one here would fight the monsters. It would be critical to my health to know that no one would be there to back me up._

 _Yet the crowd was gone, and a young woman stood alone against the darkness, dagger in hand. The yammich drew closer, and she didn't move._

 _Perhaps I would have an ally here after all._

 _The yammich had come too close, and now all appearance of indifference vanished. I wasn't yet close enough to intervene when it attacked, one arm morphing into a giant spinning drill, diving to pierce the young woman's heart. She ducked and rolled out of the way, clumsy as any new warrior, yet managed to come back to her feet and slash at the yammich, scoring two hits._

 _Now I was close enough, I leapt from the roof to join the battle. The drill returned, faster than the young woman could back away, but I got there first, cleaving through the darkness with my turquoise blade._

 _It parted like paper. I thought it would have been more fearsome, but it seems Dran does well in keeping his realm. If this was the most powerful a monster here could become, these villagers truly had little to worry about._

" _That was quite impressive," I told the young woman, "I had heard there were no warriors here."_

 _I believe she was flattered by the compliment, though she rebuffed it, "There aren't."_

" _Perhaps there weren't." Yes, I believe I was particularly smooth that evening. I do not often devote my attention to matters of attraction – worse still to let such interfere with the very particular respect between warriors – yet I could not restrain a different kind of admiration of her spirit, that refused to detach itself from the noble matters of warfare._

 _And yet she seemed determined not to accept my praise. "I could have been killed," she said._

 _Perhaps it was not honorable to be a warrior here? That would explain much._

 _Yet I could not leave well enough alone, "Your friends and family could have been killed. If you would stand between them and harm, is that not a good thing?"_

 _She was silent for a long time, apparently contemplating the night sky, until I spoke again, "I apologize, for we have not been introduced. My name is Aga."_

 _She met my eyes, and though she did not smile, it seemed to me she was happy, "I'm Renee."_

So that was how they met. Toan rested a hand on the dagger at his side. The writing became patchy after that, glossing over subsequent travels in favor of focusing on later visits to Norune. It seemed Aga started by finding excuses to drop by on the way to somewhere else, and then simply started visiting the village – and Mom – for its own sake. He came by more and more frequently, until…

 _I have not seen the Fairy King in years, not since long before even the first time I had met Renee. Now, I, the eternally wandering swordsman, have done something I never in my wildest dreams imagined I would._

 _I have settled down. In quiet little Norune Village, with a wife and two sons._

Toan shut the book. There was one page left, but.

But.

Xiao's ears were perked, and she was staring at him intently, but not making a sound. His home was deafeningly silent.

"I–" he stuttered, "I don't– I don't remember that. I– I had a brother?"

Xiao pressed her nose against the journal's edge, pushing it back open. After a moment's hesitation, Toan turned to the last page.

 _It was the midsummer festival, and he came as I was practicing my forms away from the celebration proper. It seemed like forever since I had had an opponent worthy of my skill, yet I was oddly at ease with that fact. I thought perhaps I could live out the remainder of my days here, in – though the word still felt odd in such a context – peace._

 _Then he came. He spoke differently than before, for he did not dance around the point or leave me to form my own conclusions. He told me that a great evil was coming, that it would be only a few years before it was released, and that it would devastate the entirety of the east._

 _Then he left._

 _What am I to do? I find my first concern is for my family, a notion I would have been horrified of five years ago. All of the east is in danger – and I have no reason to believe it will stop there – yet I cannot find it in me to care for more than three people?_

 _I must remove them to the west, as only then can I turn my attention to the threat. They must be safe, or I will go to every battle knowing they could be gone when I return._

 _And now, that is not knowledge that I can be at peace with._

 _I have discussed this with Renee, but she and Toan are ill and cannot undertake this journey immediately. My skill with the blade has dulled, but I know I can take our youngest on the journey. He is old enough to survive without his mother, I can protect him, and I know those in the west who can care for him while I return for my wife and eldest child. It may even be better that I only need to protect the one. Renee is afraid, she has never left Norune Village, and has only a passing acquaintance with the use of weapons._

 _I know she will fight to the death for our children. I also know that she has not had need to fight since the yammich attack all those years ago._

 _I cannot tell her that I am also afraid._

 _I shall undertake the journey in two days' time, and convey Arc to safety before I return for Renee and Toan._

Toan leaned back, mind reeling. So Aga thought he was going to come back, huh? That clearly never happened. But, he left because he knew the Dark Genie was coming, which meant that everything that happened hadn't been completely erased. If this journal still existed, then there was still a memory of the Dark Genie of some sort, aside from his and Xiao's.

"This is it," Toan said, "He knew about the Dark Genie – if we find out where he went, I bet we'll find an answer for the moon."

"Mrrow," Xiao said, annoyed for what he was ignoring.

"And my brother, too."

"Mew…"

"Do you think we should tell Mom?"

Xiao covered her face with her paws.

"Yeah, I know. But I think leaving without saying anything would be worse."

" _Meww…_ "

Toan got to his feet, "Come on, we went four hundred years into the past to fight the personification of evil, and we _won_. We can handle this!"

Xiao scrubbed at her ears, then hopped off the table to stand by his feet, "Meow!"

* * *

Mom smacked her forehead, " _No_ , Toan! Your father was delusional, that was the whole point! The catastrophe that he was afraid of never happened, and you and I _lost_ him and your brother because of it!"

Toan bit down on the retort on his tongue – Aga was _not_ delusional, but saying so would only dig him deeper into the 'crazy' hole. So instead he replied, "I'm not saying he wasn't wrong. I just want to know where he went."

"It's been ten years, Toan. He's not coming back."

"Still. What if he made to the west? My brother could still be alive somewhere out there."

Mom gave him a long, hard look. Then she shook her head, "I can't lose you, too."

Toan set his jaw. Well then, leaving in the middle of the night, it was. He'd seen more in the erased year than any of the other villagers would see in their lives – he could take care of himself, and he wasn't going to be locked down in Norune just because no one believed it.

Xiao pushed against his ankle. He looked down, and she looked pointedly toward the Divine Beast Cave.

… Ah. Right – that was an option.

"We should take it up with Dran," Toan said, "He'll know what to do."

Mom scowled, "You want to leave that badly? Fine, then we'll take this to Dran. _If_ you promise to abide by his decision."

Toan paused. He needed to investigate the missing moon, and his lost family. But breaking a promise, to _Mom_ … he couldn't do that. Better to leave without saying goodbye than to make a promise he didn't intend to keep. No, if he agreed, then he would _have_ to stay if Dran said so.

Xiao gave an affirmative meow. She was confident about this.

"Alright," Toan said, feeling as though he was trying to balance on water, "Deal."

* * *

 _A/N: So it's not Saturday, but I'll probably start posting on Saturdays. Decided to do it early this week since I wasn't sure what would be happening after Friday. Special thanks to Nitroglycerin for their participation and help with editing._


	3. Chapter 3

" _A long time ago, a traveler came to me carrying a newborn child. His face was covered in soot and his clothes were burnt to tatters. The child he carried in his arms... was you."_ – Elder Topapa

Luneth knew that people sometimes wondered about the state of his mind.

But it was worth it, he thought as he stood on the ledge of the cliff, armor and mind of the dragoon pushing him to _leap_. Arc hesitated behind him, and Luneth couldn't imagine why. They'd pulled stunts like this tons of times before in much worse circumstances. And this time, there were no goblins, gremlins, or green folk of any kind, nothing to chase them down. Nothing that gave them _need_ to start the plummet toward Terra.

Nothing except the inviting ground.

"Let's go!" Luneth shouted. Arc gave him an uneasy look. Luneth dashed forward.

Armor clinked and jostled but held steady. The dragoon was meant to be agile and move swiftly, so the plates were spaced out farther from each other – as opposed to the clunky Dark Knight – and allowed Luneth plenty of room to _jump_.

The ground disappeared beneath him. Each job sphere harbored a soul within that didn't quite _control_ the armor or robes or whatever the user wore, but guided his steps and motions. A built-in safety guide, almost like. Luneth had dropped his helmet off the ledge, so the wind was unimpeded in its roaring impact. The cold battered his eyes and bit through his gloves. The rush of the wind, the sensation of _flying_ whipped his hair and stung his face. Luneth spread his arms.

Skirt flapping madly in the swirling winds, Luneth's armor tugged at his legs and arms, just slightly too tight to be comfortable. But if it were any looser, he suspected it would catch on all the wrong things, like the branches that they often encountered in the forests.

Luneth followed his instincts as the ground came closer, and braced his spear against the impact of the fall, legs and arms bending just enough to absorb the shock.

The spear head punched into dirt and Luneth's feet smoothly landed beside it. Silence fell.

And Luneth cheered.

He'd survived and it was _awesome_ and now he knew how to feel like a bird without having to figure out how to grow wings!

But where was Arc? Luneth looked up, still breathing hard. The wind was much weaker down here – it had died to merely a breeze that ruffled his hair and, no longer having the adrenaline to heat his body, chilled the sweat brought by the rush up to the ledge in the first place.

After a moment, Arc appeared, spear thudding into the dirt about thirty yards away.

"That was EPIC!" Luneth shouted, now ten yards away. Arc looked at him, face hidden in his helmet. Why would he decide to make it so much less _fun_ and keep his helmet on?

Arc yanked his helmet off as Luneth barreled into him, armor clashing against Arc's. Metal sang against metal and Arc gasped as Luneth took him in a chokehold.

"Look at what you just did!" Luneth shouted in Arc's ear. "That must have been a hundred meters up! And you're still alive! Isn't it great! I was almost afraid you were gonna kill yourself there! I didn't even have to heal your broken legs this time! Oh, wow, we've gotta tell Nina and Topapa! They're going to _die_ when they hear what we just did!"

"Ow," Arc hissed as Luneth let go. "Luneth-"

"Are you up for round two?" Luneth asked. "Let's do it one more time before we tell Nina and she bans us from this part of the country."

"Luneth," Arc said. "I'm not so sure this is such a good idea…"

"Of course not. It's a _great_ idea! Why didn't I think of this before? These jobs have all these powers hidden inside that can be used for so much more than killing fiends! We can do shows and sports and all sorts of odd jobs! The possibilities are endless!"

"I don't think that's what the Crystals intended us to use these powers for," Arc said.

 _He's right,_ the Crystals whispered in his head. It used to be a strange sensation, having their voices murmuring in his mind. But he got used to it, and then after some more time, it actually grew comforting, having a constant friend nestled in his head. He could also mostly tune it out, too, when it became necessary.

"Yeah," Luneth said, relenting. "You're right. Helping others is a little more important. But we can do tightrope and acrobatic shows! Imagine it! It'll lift everyone's spirits! That's helping them."

Arc opened his mouth, but hesitated. "There are a lot of sad people in the world, aren't there?"

"So many!" Luneth said, scrambling into a tree and plopping down on a branch. "I say we make them _all_ happy by training lots and performing crazy shows. Become a traveling circus of a sort! Just think of the crowd cheering our names."

"Before we leave, can I talk to you about the journal?"

"Pff," Luneth scoffed, "we've got loads of time. It'll probably take at least a week to get my spin kick down. And you can't do a finale without a spin kick."

"I read something I thought you should hear."

"Really?" Luneth lunged from his seat in the tree into an upright position. "Anything interesting?"

Arc shrugged. "Aga wrote a lot about the east. Lots of details about the culture of the village where he had settled down before, but not much else. Stuff about festivals and such. Apparently they use fish as currency in some parts of the world there."

"Fish?"

"The author was equally intrigued," Arc said. "It's interesting. We've seen people use so many many forms of currency, and yet I've yet to meet a person who would use something living. I prepared a lot of information to submit to Saronia's archives. Professor Siem will be happy."

"Eh," Luneth fell back again. "Still boring." He had given up reading when he realized most of the journal talked about scenery and landscapes.

Arc settled against the trunk of the tree, pulling out the journal from his bag. "But wait," he said. "Listen to this. He talks about being followed in the last part."

"Hm?" Luneth dropped down from his branch, boots landing softly beside Arc.

Arc flipped a couple of pages. "Looks like he picked up on something just before he died."

"'I assumed myself to be the goal of my pursuer,'" he read. "'I was wrong.' He-… this is a different ship," Arc said. "He's traveling by foot at this point, and references his craft as a personal airship. It's not the transport ship that we were found on." Arc chewed on his lip. "I should have mentioned – he's been traveling by foot this whole time."

Luneth quirked an eyebrow. "And?"

"And that changes everything!" Arc flipped through the past several pages. "He doesn't speak like someone who's trying to catch a transport ship to the Continent – he doesn't even mention it. He just talks about going west. The floating continent isn't… well, it's not _directly_ west. But I should think if he was originally bound for this place, than it would have come up once or twice."

"Unless he just wandering about, traveling," Luneth said. "Didn't mean to take the ship."

Arc frowned. "Perhaps. There's definitely a missing volume. Maybe he wrote down his itinerary in that one."

"What does the rest of it say?"

Arc flipped more pages. "Something about chasing a man, fighting him… give me a second."

* * *

The man tracking us had also vanished, but not well enough. I had become used to Arc's cries in the night, and rose to awareness only moments after they had gone. My instincts, as it turned out, were not so slowed as I had feared, and the tracker had hardly gone from our camp before I caught up and engaged him. He gave Arc to a soldier under his command, and we fought. He was fierce, and well-skilled with the longsword.

But not as well-skilled as I. I bested him, but in my haste did not strike the final blow. I followed the soldier to their airship – never have I seen its kind! Great pipes blew puffs of flame into the balloon that would hold it aloft, and I cannot imagine the inferno they would breathe to carry it into the sky!

But enough of that. It was no great feat to catch up to the carrier, as Arc's cries could then be heard for miles around. Nor was it any notable act to cut the soldier down in his tracks, and leave him to bleed out as I retrieved my son.

That is where the situation became strange.

I did not – and do not – know what these people wanted with my son, but as I stood by their ship I could hear beyond Arc's wailing, to another cry much like his, coming from aboard the vessel. I must admit, I was tempted to ignore it and leave the place far behind, but found I could not. For if they had kidnapped another child, what sort of man would I be to let them go?

So, Arc in hand, I boarded the ship. The top deck was empty, and there was no clear way to go down, but I could yet hear the other child muffled by walls of wood and metal.

My sword made a fine entrance to the inside of the ship.

I did not expect there to be so many soldiers under the kidnapper's command. Though judging by their combative skill, many of them were likely engineers for the enormous airship.

The underdeck was even less straightforward in design than above, but my sword resolved that, as well, and shortly I had found the source of the other cries. As I expected, they did indeed belong to a child about Arc's age. Yet the mystery did not end there, for there were two other children sleeping beside to the one crying, one of them with white hair that spoke of a fae lineage. The kidnapper also had white hair, as well as strange markings on his face, and I cannot help but wonder if the two are related.

What could I do? I could not presume any of the children belonged there. I took them all with me. I did not see the kidnapper on my way back, nor did I find him lying in wait shortly thereafter, when I finally reached the _Gosuke_.

While I am relieved to finally have a method of travel more suited to the transportation of four toddling children, I cannot help but look over my shoulder. With his airship out of commission – I am confident I did severe, if not irreparable, damage – and himself without a crew, the kidnapper surely cannot follow me. But as yet I have no clue pertaining to his mission, and that is most troubling. For while two of these children seem normal enough – a fair-haired boy, and a red-haired girl – I am growing increasingly certain that the white-haired boy is of strong fae descent, if not entirely hailing from their realms.

I shall keep the other boy and the girl with Arc, but this one must stay in the east until I can determine if he is at least partially human. For that, my location is quite fortunate, for I can think of none better to seek counsel of than the overseer of Matataki Village.

I have not kept this journal as I should. I have learned so much, and now have no time to record it. I am drawing close to the lands of the West, but Gaspard's ship is closing too quickly. I can hear the fire from here. I will not make it.

To whomever may find this journal, my name is Aga Pendragon.

Should these children survive, and I not, the name of the red-haired one is Refia. The fair-haired one is Ingus. The white-haired one is Luneth.

The brown-haired one is my son, Arc.

To Renee and Toan, I am sorry.

* * *

Luneth started to doze off. Arc glanced to Luneth and back to the journal. Back to Luneth. Back to the journal. Fae lineage? He'd somehow missed that the first time. Topapa had mentioned the possibility, but had also summarily dismissed it.

"We were all kidnapped," Arc finally said. "None of us belonged on that ship."

"Kidnapped?" Luneth asked, regaining consciousness. "From where?"

Arc shook his head, handing Luneth the journal. "Don't know."

"… _This one must stay in the east…_ What's that supposed to mean?"

Arc glanced back at the journal. "I guess he meant to take you back. He was under the impression that your connection to the fae was stronger than it is."

"I got that. Why does he want to drop me off in Mahwanaku?"

"Maybe it's a fae realm."

Luneth frowned. "That would have been lame, being left alone with a bunch of fairies."

"Instead of on a crashing ship?"

Luneth shrugged.

"Well," Arc said. "Given that's all, we should probably-" he grabbed for the journal, but Luneth pulled away.

"Wait," Luneth said. "I have an idea."

Arc sighed. "What idea?"

"It doesn't say what happened, right?"

"No."

"He could still be out there."

"It's theoretically possible," Arc said. "But highly improbable. The odds of him still being alive are… not good."

"So?" Luneth waved the journal high above his head as if trying to keep it out of Arc's reach. As if Luneth was _that_ much taller. "I say we take the journal, take the _Nautilus_ , and we go track this guy down."

"How?" Arc asked. "He gives absolutely no indication at the end of where he may have ended up. He could have drowned at the bottom of the ocean for all we know."

"Come on," Luneth said. "Since when were you so easily scared off?"

"I'm not scared, I'm-!"

"Chicken!"

"I'm not a chicken!"

"You're wimping out! Let's at least give it a try! You can't say that it's impossible, right?"

Arc hesitated. " _Impossible_ , no. _Nigh-impossible_ , yes."

"Well, that's just perfect. Making the nigh-impossible possible is our job description. The Crystals, they know what they're doing, right?"

"I don't think the Crystals meant for us to go on wild goose chases, Luneth."

"No, they want us to help people. And what else are we doing if we're not helping people? Even each other?"

"… Maybe."

"See? I knew you'd come around. Let's go get packing! I am _so_ ready to get out of here!"

* * *

The cave was different. Toan had rarely been in here before the Dark Genie came, and he'd never noticed how it felt then. After Dran had been possessed, this cave had become his first encounter with what Aga described in his journal – that unnerving, warmth-stealing phantom that lurked where fey creatures had red eyes.

But it wasn't like that now. Now, the cave was simply cool, and bats fluttered away at their approach. The halls were still an ever-shifting maze, but the staircase doors were all open, and Toan could see various creatures calmly going about their day in the caverns.

The Macho brothers were in one of those caverns, apparently having a weight-lifting contest with a group of dashers. Toan slowed down as he passed – those two had a few stories of times where some creature or another in the cave suddenly snapped and went on a rampage. Usually the stories were about how they would fight until Dran could intervene and calm the fairy, but there was one time that didn't work, and the brothers had had to kill a friend of theirs – a rockanoff, if Toan recalled correctly.

Was it possible for that to happen to Ruby? Or to Osmond, or Xiao?

He shook his head, and jogged to catch up with Mom. He didn't know, really, what it took for the Dark Genie to be able to possess someone, and how it was different between humans and fairies – because he was _pretty sure_ it was different between humans and fairies – or even where the line between them lay. Because Xiao certainly wasn't a fairy, or a human, but how did the shape-change potion affect that? What about Osmond – was he a fairy, or something else?

And Ruby… well, the Dark Genie was a fairy, so she probably was too.

Well, what did it matter? If one his friends was ever possessed, Toan could just deal with them the same way he and Xiao had dealt with Dran, and the same way they and Goro had dealt with Master Utan. There was no problem they couldn't solve when they all worked together.

And very few that Toan couldn't solve entirely on his own.

"What are you thinking about?" Mom asked.

Toan hesitated, before answering honestly, "Just more things to call me insane for."

"Still, I'd like to know."

"I doubt that."

Mom set her jaw, and looked away. They walked in silence through the corridors, the air between them hanging tense. Xiao padded along ahead of them, somehow seeming comfortable in spite of the taut nerves between Toan and his mother.

At last, they reached the final level. Here, Mom paused, and so Toan stepped forward to push open the door. He resisted the urge to draw his dagger, but couldn't stop from grasping its hilt. He knew Dran would be normal. Kind. Wise. As he was before the village was destroyed. As he had been since it had been restored. There was no reason to think he wouldn't be.

But Toan remembered sprinting along the outside edge of this circular chamber, desperate to stay away from the fire that his village's protector rained down. And somewhat regretting his decision to leave the Chronicle Two home - after his mother had written him off as a nutcase, he'd opted to avoid letting her know about the incredibly powerful weapon that had remained in his possession.

He took two deliberate steps inside, and exhaled. The chamber was empty now, the air still. Calm. It didn't feel wrong, but he couldn't relax. The skin on his arms ached with the memory of burns, healed long ago.

If it never happened, how could he still feel this?

A shadow appeared in an alcove far above them, and Toan instinctively moved in front of his mother. She looked concerned, but in a distracted sort of way – thinking about things in the village, probably, rather than Dran. Because why should she be worried about Dran? He had only ever been a guardian to Norune.

The giant, fluffy dog-like Beast leaped from his alcove, his beating wings sending powerful gusts of wind through the chamber as he descended to the floor. The scent of the cave's spring water whirled around Toan, and his anxiety vanished as quickly as a scrap of paper thrown into a bonfire. He pulled his hand from his dagger's hilt, and smiled as Dran touched down.

Dran plopped onto his stomach, head cushioned by his paws on the stone floor, so that he only needed to look down slightly to meet the humans' eyes, "I've felt the stirrings of bitterness and fear in the village. I'm glad you've come to me – what happened?"

Xiao pushed her head against Toan's shin, but he didn't speak. He didn't know what to say. How was he supposed to explain–

"Toan has been saying the village was destroyed last year," Mom said, "He's been speaking of traveling in time, and seeing two moons in the sky. Please talk some sense into him."

 _Well. Thanks, Mom._

"Mrrow!" Xiao meowed.

Dran looked at the cat, "Is that so?"

"Purrl, purrl, meow!"

"I see, I see."

"Meoww, mew. Mrrow–"

"Say no more. I understand."

Mom looked between the giant dog and the small cat, "Um, what…?"

"This is very concerning," Dran said, nodding sagely, "Very concerning indeed. Toan, you say you fought the Dark Genie itself?"

"Yes. Eventually." _Don't tell me I'm crazy. Just don't say that I'm crazy…_

"Interesting."

Mom frowned, "Dran?"

The Divine Beast closed his eyes for a few moments, then opened them again, "Renee, your son is not delusional."

Toan smiled, relieved by the realization that Dran _knew_.

Although, Mom… did not look happy.

Dran continued, "It is highly unusual for a human to remember another timeline, but there are certain conditions that allow it. It is… difficult to explain the workings of time to mortals, but at least know this - Toan, Xiao. The events you experienced never occurred, with the exception of the moment that caused the timeline to split. It is also true, Renee, that those experiences remain, and they are as valuable in this timeline as they were in the one in which they occurred. Do you understand?"

Toan nodded, although he was sure he didn't entirely understand. He figured he understood enough, though. Mom, on the other hand, was still as a statue – a normal statue, that was. Not like the ones that roamed these halls.

At length, Mom muttered, "Then, Aga… he wasn't mad?"

"I never did meet him, Renee. I don't know his circumstances."

"The Fairy King told him what was going to happen," Toan explained, "All the things that got erased. Then he – Aga. My, um, father – took my brother to the west."

"Terra's bowels," Dran breathed, "A carry-over. Something stopped the ripples of cause and effect from reaching Aga. There are very few things with the power to do that, and the good ones would avoid it unless they were in dire need. Oh, this is bad…"

Finally, something Toan could understand. He took a step closer to the Divine Beast, "What can we do?"

"I would start by tracking down your father. Renee, do you know where he might be found?"

Mom shook her head. Xiao gave Toan a wide-eyed look, but he turned away from her. He knew what she was thinking – if they were right, then finding his father wouldn't be the hard part. They both knew where he was.

The hard part would be prying answers out of his cold, dead body.

"He was a wanderer to the end," Mom said. All of her agitation seemed to have melted away, replaced with tired acceptance, "It's been more than ten years – he could be anywhere in the world, and if he's not dead, then he's probably still on the move. Last I knew, he was taking Arc somewhere far to the west, but who knows if he ever made it?"

"That's where we'll go, then," Toan said. He wasn't sure what to expect out there, beyond the ocean – though Aga had spoken of the lands to the west several times in his journal, he left a surprising amount to the imagination.

"How?" Mom asked, "How do you plan to do that? You need an airship to cross the ocean."

"Aga was able to build one practically on his own," Toan replied, "I'm sure Queens will have something that can do the job."

"… I suppose."

"I'll be fine, Mom."

His mother gave him a long look, and then pulled him into a tight hug, "Promise."

"I promise."

"When will you go?" She was trembling, and he could hear tears in her voice.

"It's going to be a long trip. We'll leave in the morning."

"We?"

" _Meow_."

Mom chuckled, and scrubbed at her face, "Oh."


	4. Chapter 4

_"Any time you need me, give me a call."_ \- Goro

Ur's library was quiet. But Luneth was looking for Arc, and he knew from experience that dead silence didn't mean he wouldn't find his brother hidden behind - or maybe under - one of the stacks of books. As he moved between the shelves, Luneth noted the small lit candles along the walls. Someone was definitely down here.

The night was dark aside from the candles, and quiet. Perfect time to slip out to Sasune without anyone noticing. Luneth didn't feel like dealing with a large crowd this time. They tended to slow him down.

Wood creaked under his feet and dust settled from a crack in the ceiling. Not many used this library. There wasn't much of a point, given the need to for planting and harvesting at this time of year. There were some books on farming, but Luneth had a sneaking suspicion that Arc wouldn't use his time away from the fields to study about them. Ur was a farm town, after all. They had responsibilities, just like Kazus was expected to provide minerals and metals for the city of Sasune. And Luneth knew that Arc hated it just as much as Luneth did.

It was hard to make out Arc's small frame in the dim light of the library, but Luneth managed to find him at a table in the corner, books spilled around him. At the center was that burned journal Cid had given them, with maps and stuff helping in his research.

"How long have you been down here?" Luneth asked.

Arc didn't look up, "A while. Maybe a couple of hours."

Luneth blanched. "It's past midnight!

Arc paused, grimacing. "Perhaps it's been a little longer, then."

"Yeesh, I'm surprised you haven't wasted away to nothing already! You know Topapa wants you to take the position of elder, to succeed him when he dies. How can you do that if you're a meandering skeleton?"

"It makes no sense," Arc said, shoving a book closed. "The philosophies that led to the formation of the elders completely contradict those of the sages they follow. The old sages, they-"

Luneth waved a hand. "Yeah, yeah, you already told me. The sages believed in sunshine and happiness while Father now teaches self-abuse and neglect. You don't want to do it and all that." Luneth should have known better than to bring this up again. But alas. Once Arc got started, there was no stopping him.

"Not quite like that," Arc said. "But I suppose that's kind of what I'm saying. I agree with Elder Topapa's teachings, but I… I want to revive the belief that a sage is someone that can make you smile just by being near him. I want to focus on the good in life, not the restrictions. Is that stupid?"

"Not stupid," Luneth said with a shrug. "But it's not _my_ problem, in any case."

"But if I don't become Elder, maybe they'll choose you instead."

Luneth busted out laughing. "We both know that's not going to happen!"

"Fair." Arc turned back to the books in front of him. "Can you imagine it, though?"

"Being elder? I'd prefer not to, but-"

"No, I mean being a real sage. Respect across the realms, knowledge beyond what we can comprehend with only fifteen years of experience. The old sages, they would travel across the country without personal belongings or money. They simply healed and helped people where they went. They would take up positions in courts, providing voices of reason where people heard none. They would share knowledge, stories, history.

"Variety, that's the name of progress and forward-thinking, I just know it. We need change and better-informed decisions based on solid facts and science. Technology would move faster and monarchies would be kinder. The people of the _world_ will be better off as a whole."

Luneth nodded slowly, pretending to understand.

Arc continued, hands flailing. "These were men who used their magic to guard and protect without ever having to lift a sword or cast a spell. No sitting at a fountain while people come to you with problems, wanting you to say something clever and inspiring. Actually _doing_ something, instead of spouting empty words. Jump-starting the future, if you will."

"Uh-huh. _That's_ what you've been hiding away and studying about this whole time?"

Arc stilled and shook his head, pulling the journal out and opening it up again. "No. That's just something that's been bothering me lately.

"I've been reading the same passages from my father's book over and over and I can't seem to quite get why he left in the first place. He mentions a threat, but it's so vague. I feel like I'm missing a part of conversation. He references something that's been established elsewhere, probably in the missing volume, but I have no idea where he may have left it. Maybe his home in Norune? It's so frustrating."

"Perfect," Luneth said. "Because it's time to go find out. Get your things."

"What?"

"We're leaving now."

" _Now_?"

"I said we would go this week."

"But you didn't tell me today!" Arc protested, jumping to his feet. "Tonight! How are we going to stay awake?"

"Magic. How else? Let's go. It's a two day journey from here to Sasune."

Arc hastily gathered his things, casting mini on half of the books around him. "What about Nina and Topapa?"

"Already left notes. They won't mind. Not exactly the first time we've done it."

"If I recall correctly," Arc said, hefting his bag over his shoulder, "the last time we _did_ do it, they lectured us for an hour. You swore it wouldn't happen again."

Technically true. "Yes, but, see, this is different."

"How?"

"I said the fate of the world was involved. They'll understand."

Arc frowned. "It's not particularly honest…"

Luneth draped an arm across Arc's shoulder. "Yeah, but we're the Warriors of the Light! If that doesn't let us sneak out in the dead of night, then what good is it for?"

"Helping people? _Actually_ saving the world?"

"Okay," Luneth said as they left the library, still holding close to Arc. "You're not allowed to say anything else. You'll make me doubt myself, and I would prefer not to ever know what that feels like."

* * *

So this was what Monica must have felt like when she first came to Max's time.

He wasn't entirely new to the sensation. But though he'd gone to the future, it was never for more than a day or two at a time. He'd caught glimpses of the changes made in the future world created by their travels, but he'd never stayed long-term. Monica on the other hand, she spent months with Max, traveling and seeing the world and adjusting to a time completely different from her own. She had to get used to the lack of technology, the differing social customs, the lack of necessary resources, like water.

Well, that actually was probably just Max right now. They had water in his time. For free. But now, standing in front of the shopkeeper in the small village they'd found to stop in, they charged the largest fortune for the smallest bottle that Max had ever seen.

"Forty gilda?" he repeated. The old man nodded. Max looked at the coins in his hands. He had plenty, but he also knew how to get some himself from a stream, if necessary. He and Monica had learned proper survival skills in the Rainbow Butterfly Wood, so if he had to, he could save this to get something a little more useful, like gems. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"Not when you're offering coins like those, it's not," the old man wheezed. "If I'm gonna take a chance, I'm gonna make sure that I get my deal out of the matter."

Max sighed. The gems in this time were probably inferior, anyway. It would be better to wait until he got back to his time in Palm Brinks before he updated his weapons. "Fine."

"Ooh, they're pretty," the man said, handing him the water. "Where'd you get these, hm?"

"A land far away from here. Take good care of them - they're quite rare."

The man gave a smug smile. "Gonna make a great decoration, these will."

Max frowned at the waste. That could have gotten him some supplies where he came from. But he recognized that his body wasn't going to last much longer if he didn't get something to drink soon.

"Gaffer!" a girl cried, coming over. "What are you doing here, swindling the poor, weary travelers?"

The man shrugged. "It ain't swindling, Paige. He's got foreign coinage and we're in a drought!"

" _Drought_? Gaffer, we just had a big harvest! The rain hasn't been quite as strong lately, but it's by no means a drought!"

Max hesitated. He didn't want to get involved in a scuffle, but now that someone was intervening on his behalf, wouldn't it be rude to leave? "I'm fine," he said. "I've got money to spare."

"No," the girl said. She grabbed a couple of tens from the man's cart and dropped them in Max's hand. "The least he could do is compensate you a little for your generosity. Here, these should get you a nice meal if you're hungry. Or we can just feed you at our house, if you want. I have a close friend who likes to travel, so I know a little of what it's like."

Max hesitated, glancing to the old man, who just shrugged. Was it common to just take someone's money like that? Should he give it back? "No, really," he said, offering them back. "We're fine. We were just wanting to get directions for a city by the name of 'Queens'. Do you know how to get there?"

"I'm sorry son, but did you say Queens?" The old man adjusted his overly large hat. "We just happen to have a caravan heading in that direction in a few days."

"Yeah," the girl said. "You can tag along, if you'd like."

"We were hoping to set out again tomorrow," Max said. "But thanks. As long as we know which direction to move in, I think we'll be fine."

"Why are we fine?" Monica asked, stepping in.

Max gestured to the other two. "They're offering a caravan in a few days, but I figure we should get going a little sooner than that."

Monica nodded. "Yeah, the sooner the better. We're on urgent business."

"Well then," the girl said. "At least let us give you some food. The recent harvest was really kind to us this year – we have lots to go around."

"No, really," Monica said. "I would hate to intrude. Believe me, it would be like hanging a token of bad luck on your door. Feels like we bring misfortune wherever we go."

 _More like we chase the misfortune to its doorstep_ , Max mentally corrected her, glancing at her sheathed sword. He hadn't noticed until they'd left the tower, but its glow had been orange in Zelmite Mine, and now it was green. Monica's Chronicle Two had reverted back to the Chronicle Sword.

 _Why?_

"We'll be fine," Max said. "But thanks for the offer. Maybe we can stop by sometime later?"

"Please do!" the girl said. "I'm Paige, by the way. Whenever you visit again, just ask for me, and I'll make sure you get what you need."

* * *

Toan walked over the sun-dappled path, soaking in the cool morning air. Dran had given him the travel map before he left, which had been a great relief to his mother – apparently it would only work on this continent, but it still meant that while he was here, he could go back and see her at any time.

Well, not quite _any_ time. He had to actually reach Matataki before he could use the map to jump there instantly, and it would be the same on the following trip to Queens. But once each place was marked, he'd then be able to hop back to Norune to reassure Mom that, yes, he was still alive. He'd have to make the most of those check-backs, though, since he wasn't going to be able to make any more once he'd left Queens.

Xiao lounged in his arms, eyes closed and breathing rhythmically. He had to carry her most of time - since her stride was so short, she could never keep up with him for more than a couple hours at a time.

When they reached Matataki, he'd have to ask around about shape-change potions.

He always hated the times where he and his friends all had to physically walk somewhere new. Ruby had thrown a fit when they'd first arrived in Muscka Racka – _you mean I could have waited in Queens?!_ She'd demanded, _and you could have just picked me up when you actually reached this sandpit?!_

Goro had looked just about ready to punch her in the face. Or punch Toan in the face for not considering that they could have left her behind. Xiao just thought the whole thing was hilarious.

But then, Xiao never had to worry about Goro – he didn't seem to be bothered by her, or by Ungaga. Ruby and Osmond irritated him, while Toan…

Well, Toan was never quite sure where he stood with Goro. He worked perfectly fine as part of the team, but during sparring matches, the heavy hitter would always, _always_ demand Toan as an opponent. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost, sometimes Toan let him win, but it didn't change anything. The moment someone suggested a practice match–

 _Hey, grasshopper! Let's go!_

Toan sighed, _I don't get it. I'm not even that great at jumping. That's Xiao's job._

Though, compared to Goro, _everyone_ was great at jumping. Toan shivered as he remembered the core of the Sun and Moon Temple, the entire structure crumbling around them, and the only way out.

 _Ruby, carry Goro! Ungaga, you're next! Xiao, go!_

Slowest first, then the next, then the fastest. And then Toan. He had nightmares for a while after that, where he hadn't been quite quick enough…

But then, a lot of his nightmares were like that. Not quite quick enough against the skeletons in Dran's cave. Not quite quick enough against the Killer Snake. Not quite quick enough against the Dark Genie.

But he _had_ been. Every time. And he would continue to be fast enough, for as long as he needed to be. And when it was all over, then he could curl up with a nice fishing pole by the pond, and spend his days catching gummys and nonkys without worrying about the fate of the world.

Toan stepped carefully down into a ravine. Loose pebbles shifted under his shoes, tumbling down to the ravine's floor. Thick trees towered over him, breaking the sunlight into streams that flowed over the underbrush. They were getting close to Matataki now – hopefully they'd arrive before dusk. Once the trees started getting thinner, then they'd be only an hour or so away.

Or… something like that. It was hard to tell time when he couldn't see the sun, and it had been a long, long time since he'd had to walk to Matataki.

The woods drifted by, and his mind wandered. Through memories of his erased journey, his village, what would be waiting when he arrived in Matataki, and where he'd be going afterward. Were some of the fae here still corrupted?

With the Dark Genie gone, he shouldn't have to worry about fighting, at least. The roads were clear, and civilization should be completely intact. Even if he met something nasty, he had the Chronicle Two, and he trusted it to deal with any potentially scary opponents he could run into.

Eventually, as he remembered it, the forest thinned out, and then opened up to a village built on hills and trees. There was Couscous's house, down by the river, and the Wise Owl Shop by the cliffside. It looked like not many of the villagers were living where they'd like, but it was the same in Norune. They'd just have to deal with that, Toan supposed.

He immediately made his way to a narrow path at the outskirts of the village, leading to a secluded home further up in the cliffs. He didn't know if Goro would remember their adventure, but if he did, then Toan owed it to him to let him know that he wasn't alone.

Goro's tree house was just as he remembered it, perched in thick branches high above the ground. Xiao dashed ahead, prancing at the foot of the ladder that led up to Goro's home. Toan started to follow.

Then heard a creak from the balcony's floorboards above.

Instinctively, he jumped back.

A moment later, Goro slammed into the ground like a meteor, throwing a shower of dirt all around. Xiao snorted, in her closest approximation of chuckling.

"Long time no see," Toan greeted, wary.

Goro grunted, "You here for a rematch, grasshopper?"

Toan almost sighed in relief at the confirmation that Goro remembered. But didn't, because Goro was hefting his hammer in a way that said his question wasn't a request. Or, in fact, a question.

So Toan just rolled his eyes and fell into a ready stance, which, of course, his bear-cloaked friend took as an invitation.

He didn't bother drawing his sword, instead merely hopping backward as Goro swung his hammer. Toan wasn't really in the mood for this, but Goro probably had a lot get out of his system, so he obliged. The heavy mallet left small craters in the grass as he danced away from it, and pushed little gusts of wind past him when it narrowly missed.

Swing, dodge, swing, dodge. Toan knew all his teammates' fighting styles inside and out, and Goro was no exception. He had no trouble avoiding the heavy-hitter's attacks. He stayed close, though, to make Goro think that he was looking for an opening. Because Goro knew Toan's moves as well as Toan knew Goro's, and if the Matatakin realized that Toan was just waiting for him to tire out, then this little duel would get _far_ more difficult.

He spun around the next slam, and their eyes met.

Goro realized what he was doing.

Uh oh.

Goro scowled, and switched his grip on the mallet. Toan jumped back, but this time the heavy-hitter matched his steps, preventing him from putting any distance between them. Toan grabbed Goro's shoulder, pulling himself into a tight spin back and around the Matatakin. Goro was a solid weight, not even nudged by Toan's shove, but the maneuver allowed Toan to avoid the hammer's hilt that had almost hit his stomach.

And then jab his elbow into the base of Goro's neck. The heavy pelt cloak softened the blow – Goro probably barely felt it.

Goro growled, "Are you joking? That doesn't count!"

"Of course it does," Toan retorted, "In a real fight, that would have been a knife. You'd be knocked down, or dead. It counts."

"Urgh. Why are you here?"

"Found out I have a brother, somewhere in the west. I stopped by here to see how you were doing. How are you doing?"

"Hmph." Goro turned on his heel, stomping back toward his ladder. Xiao sauntered to him and started rubbing against his ankles, purring, forcing him to walk slower so he didn't accidentally kick her.

"Alright," Toan said, "Guess I'll be on my way, then."

This was about what he'd expected from Goro, anyway. Though he'd hoped for a little more… something. Friendliness, maybe. Or conversation, at least. Goro wasn't exactly the friendly sort though, and the most talkative among the three of them here was Xiao, even in her current form.

Well, he could talk to Ruby when they got to Queens. She'd probably have more insight into this whole situation, anyway. Out of the six of them, she always seemed to know the most about what they were doing.

"Hey. Toan."

Travel map halfway out of his pouch, Toan paused.

"You going through the Wise Owl Forest again?"

"Yes. Xiao and I'll stay in Norune tonight, then start for Queens tomorrow."

Goro's face scrunched up like he'd just taken a bite out of a lemon, " _Queens_ , huh? Well, the Killer Snake is still alive, so you'll need to get the Serpent Sword from Treant again. And don't leave me behind when you go through the Forest – you and the cat together couldn't open the doors in there if you _jumped_ on the switch. While carrying the heaviest rock you could lift."

Toan started to smile–

"And we need to make sure Brownboo doesn't get repeated. That was _embarrassing_."

Xiao nodded emphatically.

"Well," Toan said, "I'll be sure to watch the sky this time."

Goro turned back, "Hmph."

Toan pulled out the travel map, smiling at the new mark that had appeared for Matataki Village. Waited for Xiao to come to him, and then pointed at Norune.

The world dissolved into light.


	5. Chapter 5

_"So, this Dark Genie is powerful? More powerful than ME, even?"_ \- Ruby

"Go!" Ingus shouted to his troops as they faced each other, wooden swords at the ready. He didn't need to speak again before the field broke into a flurry of thudding blows and surprised shouts, startling a crow away that had started to settle on a nearby post. Besides those, the training field was completely empty. Rocks, snow, and natural terrain kept it uneven, but Ingus didn't want it any differently. A real battlefield wouldn't have smooth ground with perfectly kept grass and trimmed shrubbery.

Ingus walked among the soldiers, watching for foul play, distractions, intruders – he stopped by one pair and wordlessly nudged one of their feet to the side, almost tripping him.

"What?"

"An unstable stance like that will get you down and killed," Ingus said. "Stand with your legs a little further apart."

Some of these people were older than him. That didn't intimidate him, but it was a concern. People didn't like being corrected by their junior in age. It tended to agitate them. It could be dangerous, putting him in a position to train the new recruits. There were always malcontents, those who had succeeded so well in their smithy or shed that actually being told they were doing something wrong would make them quite… irritable.

Ingus absently touched his pendant. He never learned where it came from, but he assumed it belonged to one of his parents. Cid only told him that he'd been wearing it when they rescued him from the ship. It could have come from anywhere. Now, it served as a reminder to Ingus that all men died eventually, no matter how hard they fought or how intensely they trained. And that was strangely comforting. It told him that there was nothing especially dishonorable about dying. It simply made all men equal in the end.

It was cold, Ingus noted. To those who weren't training, at least. The exercise kept the troops warm for the most part, but he could still see their breath coming out in clouds, especially visible given the physical exertion.

"Captain, sir!" one called out. A younger kid, probably about twelve years old, with dark hair and a freckled face. "I have a question!"

"Yes?"

The kid looked to his older friend, who glanced nervously toward Ingus as he approached. The older friend must have been at least two, four fingers taller than Ingus. "What do we do if they ask for mercy or if we know they're not that evil? We're not gonna _really_ hurt people, are we?" the young one asked.

Ingus looked between the two. Were they stupid? "Knock them out if you have to," Ingus said. "But you'll find that when it matters, you're not going to care about who's hurt or who's evil. Only how to survive."

The kid blinked. "How do you knock someone out without killing them?"

 _You pray,_ Ingus thought with a grimace. But they had a couple of years to finish growing before they would have to figure this out. In the streets, breaking up brawls and taking out gangs was a common issue. Fighting fae was one thing. Fighting _people_ was another. Even if they never fought a war, patrolling the streets would teach them a thing or two about how these things actually worked.

Deciding to humor them, Ingus took one of their swords and tapped to the kid's friend's leg that was protected by cheap padding. "You drop a person by hitting them where it matters. The heart is here. If you cut through it?"

"They die."

"What about here?" he tapped the stomach.

"Die."

"Here?" The friend looked a little concerned as Ingus tapped his arm.

"Probably not die."

"Right." Ingus gave him the sword back. "Most people, not seasoned warriors, if you successfully hit them in the arms or legs, there's nothing they can do. They'll be overwhelmed with the pain and give up. Once the situation is secure, then, if necessary, you can take them to a medic."

"Okay." The two looked… not satisfied, but were willing to let it drop.

The skies today were clouded at least, so there was no sun to reflect off the snow and blind the trainees. Ingus didn't want anyone going to that medic today.

Most would get it down with time. It was only a matter of repeating the same drills over and over until these defensive techniques became second nature. People didn't often understand that there were no magic tricks to getting good. Only work. Lots and lots of work and continuing to swing long past the point where you wanted nothing more than to _stop_.

He stopped by another soldier and pulled his arm up. "Don't grow so lax. It slows you down."

"Thanks, Mr. Fancy Hair," the recruit muttered under his breath. Some of his friends snickered.

 _There's always at least one_ , Ingus thought. "What did you say, soldier?"

"Nothing," the man said. He was actually about the same age as Ingus, but with a bigger build. Not big enough to be a former smith, but he probably hauled some lumber or other heavy materials. Ingus left it alone and turned to continue on.

He was stopped when another recruit barrelled in front of him and punched the soldier that had insulted Ingus. In the face.

Ingus and the other troops stopped to watch, and there was a moment's pause as everyone took in what had just happened. The recruit that had thrown the first blow straightened as his target stumbled, gripping his jaw. A menacing growl ripped free of his throat and he retaliated, sending a clenched first at his aggressor.

Boys forced themselves in front of Ingus, more concerned with the excitement of the scuffle than on the outcome of their training. Apparently.

Ingus came to himself again and started pushing his way through the gathering crowd, using his spear to nudge feet and faces out of the way.

A scuffle promptly erupted, recruits pushing and shoving and generally lapsing into a fight that held all the elegance and skill of a bar brawl. Sides were lost amid the scuffle and Ingus sighed as he shoved his way toward the soldier that had thrown the first punch. Was one day of quiet training too much to ask for?

Ingus shoved that thought to the side and as he forced his way through. Whether it was because they noticed the red cloak or his face, Ingus wasn't sure, but he took the victory as many of the soldiers started breaking away on their own. Ingus finally reached the soldier that had come in, and promptly grabbed him, but this time got a punch in the face for his efforts.

Ingus rubbed his face, stumbling back. "Tch." That was going to bruise. He glared at the offender, but the soldier that punched him still wore his helmet, unlike many of the recruits that had shed theirs, likely due to the cold metal. Ingus narrowed his eyes, but raised his spear.

"Give me your name, soldier," Ingus said.

The recruit didn't respond. Instead he rolled back on his feet, raising his sword in a taunting gesture. Ingus frowned at the direct challenge, gripping his spear a little tighter. Sometimes they only responded to violence. "Is it a fight you want?" he asked.

The masked soldier still said nothing. Although, something about his stance seemed… _annoyingly_ familiar.

Ingus relented. "Then a fight you shall have."

The soldier charged. Ingus pulled up his spear and easily deflected the soldier's blows. Granted, given the wood sword up against his Dragon's Spear… there wasn't much of a hope for this kid. Ingus knocked the sword out of his hands and used the shaft of his spear to smack against the boy's neck, forcing a choke out, and to knock the helmet off before the kid stumbled back and took a moment to recover.

Ingus froze as the helmet came away. "You..." Silver hair fell in a mess around a too-pale face. Ingus blinked. " _Luneth_?"

"Ingus!" Luneth shouted gleefully, pulling out another sword, this one sparkling with the light of a thousand stars. Diamond blade. "I've missed you!"

" _Maker_ ," Ingus hissed as Luneth charged again. "What are you _doing here_? And why didn't the Crystals warn me this was going to happen?"

 _For what it's worth, you weren't paying a lot of attention._

"I'm getting in a round of sparring!" Luneth said. "You wouldn't believe how lame Arc can be!"

Ingus deflected a blow and spun out of the way, shooing away recruits. "Luneth! Now isn't a good time!"

He was starting fights in a random squad, many of whom had barely begun their training. This was _not_ a good example to show them, nor was it encouraging. These kids needed to focus on working together as a cohesive unit - they shouldn't need to worry about strangers dropping in.

"You don't want to give them a good demonstration? Isn't the whole point of training to show off? It's not like we're defending the country from anything anyway. Don't you remember the part where we saved the world? It's good now! We've got nothing to worry about! It's really boring, actually."

Ingus growled. "You idiot."

"Sorry, what?"

Luneth was a Warrior of Light, and he was acting like _this_ , in front of Ingus's all-too-impressionable trainees. They should be learning to control themselves, to ignore base needs, to put their country above their own desires, goals, wishes. And here Luneth was, picking a fight because he was _bored!_ Spontaneity and recklessness would only get Ingus' men killed!

"I said you're an idiot!"

"Aw, see! You really do care! Thanks!" Luneth took an opening and grazed Ingus' armor, leaving a small gash in the metal. The soldiers started chanting "fight" in the background.

"Hey, careful!" Ingus forced Luneth back. "We can fight later! What are you even _doing_ here?"

"Just seeing how my friend is doing!" Luneth chinked Ingus' boot with his sword before jumping away again. "Good to see you haven't gotten _too_ rusty."

"Now's not the time!"

"That's what you always say!" He lunged again and Ingus leaped out of the way, bringing up his spear. What was he to do? Luneth was impossible to reason with when he was like this - or at _any_ time, really. It often seemed like he only listened to reason when it came from Arc, but Arc was currently nowhere to be seen. And now the entire squadron was watching, wasting valuable training time. This wasn't anything close to a realistic simulation, they had nothing to learn from two people so far beyond their own skill level, and that knew each other so well.

Ingus stopped, letting his spear fall idle at his side. Luneth slowed, likely trying to find the catch in Ingus' nonresistance. He hesitated, trying to decide if it was worth it to swing his sword that could slice clean through Ingus' mythril plate, before tapping tentatively against Ingus' shoulder.

Ingus didn't react. Luneth sighed, catching on, and lowered his sword. "Fine."

Ingus relaxed his grip on his spear. "Thank you." He directed his attention to the recruits. "What are you all standing around for? Back to your upper swing!" He turned aside and grabbed Luneth. "Can I have a word with you? Privately?"

"Sure!"

* * *

Refia stopped before the massive gate into Sasune, jaw dropping at the crowds bustling to and fro. Things had really picked up since the fall of the Cloud those many months ago. Including, apparently, track and business in Sasune. Kazus had stayed pretty quiet, but Refia had noticed a rise in their bulk orders from the captain here.

Forcing her mouth closed again, Refia turned her chin up a bit and urged Gerard on behind her.

People milled around her, voices murmuring and exclaiming in awe at the various shops open along the road toward the castle. Refia almost didn't notice when a small boy approached, ducking and maneuvering his way through the bodies toward her.

"Lady Refia!" he said, followed by an almost identical girl. "I was told to help you carry your merchandise inside."

"Ah," Refia said, a little taken aback. The king had never sent children before. "Great. It's right here. When did you get here?"

"Oh, just now," said the boy. "Rushed over. Didn't want to keep you waiting, miss."

"Have you always worked for the king?" _And if so, how come I've never met you before?_

The girl answered. "Just a few months. A couple in the court took us in when our parents went missing a couple of years ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

The boy shrugged. "Nah, it's nothing."

"I can take him," the girl said as they approached the castle, gripping Gerard's reins. "The king is waiting in the throne room. We can take the supplies, if you'll just bring a few display samples."

"Thanks." Refia took a helmet and sword. "Actually, can you-" she gestured to the boy, "-take some of that plate there?"

"Yeah." The boy hefted a breastplate into his arms, back arching under the weight. "Lemme just – umph – I'll take you to the throne room, then."

The place hadn't changed at all from she'd come before, a mere three months ago. The same people still rushed, strutted, danced, and strolled down the halls, voices mingling and laughing at jokes Refia couldn't distinguish. She recognized some of the faces. One of them, a girl with green hair and wearing beads very characteristic of the current fashion, seemed especially familiar. What was her name? Fefi?

The throne room was always easy to find. The doors weren't any bigger than standard, and they had an image of the king etched in gold at the head, framed in stained glass. A dozen guards moved and shouted as she approached, armor scraping and clicking. They fell into formation, lining up in two even rows on either side.

"Your Majesty!" they shouted, "Presenting Lady Refia of Kazus, Warrior of Light and Victor over the Cloud of Darkness!"

"Welcome, welcome!" The king boomed, standing as she entered, his daughter rising on his right and Ingus on his left. "We've been waiting for you! What an honor!"

Ingus must have gotten quite a promotion. "Sire, the honor is all mine," Refia said as she moved to present the plate mail, brows furrowing.

"Well, this is just too wonderful! All four Warriors of Light, right under my roof! Sara, dear, do you think tonight would be too soon to prepare a feast?"

Sara cocked her head humorlessly. "That would be impossible, father."

Refia paused. "What?"

"Tomorrow night it is! Inform our guests and send our fastest messengers to alert the people! Make sure you get Trier. He'll want to be here for this."

"Father…"

"That's right! Let me admire these wonderful gifts from our good lady's father!"

Sara let out a prolonged sigh. Given a gesture from the king, Ingus stepped down from his position to help Refia.

"Your Majesty," Refia bowed, awkwardly gesturing to the rolled out bundles. "Your latest request."

"Good, good!" the king exclaimed, examining the breastplate the kid was holding. Refia almost forgot he was there. "Nice edges you have here," he said. "Not too sharp."

"Thank you, sire."

"How are the swords, Captain Ingus?" The king asked as Ingus tested the weight of a longsword.

"I must say," Ingus offered one of the swords to the king, "I think I prefer my current weapon."

"Oh, your _diamond_ one?" Refia asked with an exaggerated scowl. "I'm sorry we can only work with steel and _mithril_."

The king threw back his head and laughed. "Don't worry, Lady Refia," he said, "I'm quite sure we'll appreciate these ones just fine. The rest of our captains were becoming quite desperate."

"Thank you, sir. Though, I admit that if they accept only out of desperation, that doesn't come off as much of a compliment either."

The king laughed again.

"Ingus," Refia said. "What was that about 'all four…?'"

"Ah, yes. Luneth and Arc came to pick up the _Nautilus._ They're talking about traveling."

"Traveling _where_?"

"The other side of the planet," Ingus said simply. "They're going to find Arc's long-lost father."

"An admirable endeavor," the king said. "Which we will be honoring tomorrow evening with a feast."

Sara piped up, shifting in her seat. "I thought that was to celebrate having all the Warriors here?"

"It is for both," said the king. "No reason it can't be both."

"Sire," Refia said. "If I may, where are Luneth and Arc? Currently?"

"Guest chambers, west side."

"Thank you." Refia considered bolting in that moment, but she was still the representative of her father's work. She wouldn't take off in the middle of displaying the latest work. As much as she itched to do so.

"Now, see," she said, forcing herself to focus. "The metal forming that particular blade was forged from the best steel, with the most precise balance of carbon and iron that you'll find this side of the Continent. It's just short of mithril-level durability and lightness, sire."

Ingus quirked an eyebrow, likely noting her tension. Refia ignored him.

The king, however, was distracted, checking every detail of the work she and Takka had put so much effort into over the past few weeks. Was he dissatisfied? Did that matter? "Excuse me sire," Should she bow again? Refia gave the king a bit of an awkward yet hopefully respectful nod. "I would like to go meet my friends. Would you care to continue discussions later?"

Ingus stiffened a little. He was too formal. She bounced just a little from one foot to another. Luneth and Arc were here. And they were _going somewhere._ They were _not_ about to leave her behind.

"That's acceptable." The king said, distracted by the armor he was examining.

"Thank you!" Refia smiled, and gave a full bow, before dashing off. Her muscles ached from all the work she had done on this shipment - it had been a pretty big one - but mostly in her arms, so she could run just fine. The king had been increasing his garrison since the whole Cloud of Darkness catastrophe. There wasn't a need for it, though, so Refia figured he was probably just upset that he had been useless during that period. She definitely wasn't going to say anything about that to Ingus, though.

The halls passed in a blur. They were mostly empty, probably to do with that feast the king mentioned, which left Refia perfect freedom. She skidded around a corner. It was so big and open. Her hair whipped through the cool air behind her, giggles echoing off the walls.

Skidding again, she came to a halt. The doors to the west guest chamber lay in front of her. Refia paused, taking a deep breath.

"Refia!" Metal clacked up beside her. Ingus gave her one of his stoic glares. She ignored him and shoved the doors open.

Ingus folded his arms across his chest as Refia burst through the doors to the guest chambers. "You are about to do _what_!" she shouted.

"Refia!" Luneth moved fast, leaping to greet her. "Just in time! Guess what we're going to do!"

Arc grabbed a pillow to protect himself.

"I already heard," Refia said. "From _the king!_ Why did I have to first hear about this _from the king!_ "

"Well-" Luneth started.

"If I may," Ingus said, cutting him off. "They were waiting for you, Refia. For what it's worth."

"You!" Refia turned on Ingus. "You _also knew_!"

"I did."

"And you didn't say _anything_? _Why_?"

"Because the king speaks first."

"He-!" Refia placed her hands on her hips. "Ingus, you had more than ample chance after the king started speaking to say something!"

"I did not see a proper opening."

"Anyway!" Luneth said excitedly. "So, Arc found this journal – no, that's not right, he was reading the journal that Cid gave us and apparently it belonged to his father and his father was traveling with his son – not Arc's son, he doesn't have a son, but the father's son, Arc's brother – and they apparently came from the east and he has a mother and brother back there – Arc does, they're the father's wife and son – and they're probably still alive and we think his father might be dead 'cause he stopped writing-"

"He left this very vague apology at the end," Arc said, interrupting Luneth. "So we were thinking, maybe if we go and find those people he apologized to, given we have their names now, we might be able find them. We were just going to visit the land across the ocean, where I may – or may very well not – have a family. But it's fine," he quickly amended, seeing Refia's face. "We don't have to go, if you don't want us to."

"But me, too!" Luneth continued. "It looks like I might also have a father, only he's a little more murderous than Arc's, and it wouldn't surprise me if all three were across the ocean with-"

Refia turned to Ingus. "And what were you going to do about this?"

"I offered to go with them."

"Great," Refia said. "So I was not only the last in hearing about it, but I'm also the last to join the party. Perhaps I'll just go right back to Kazus, since I'm so clearly not needed here. _Thanks_ , guys."

"You're welcome," Luneth said, missing her sarcasm. "So, we have the _Nautilus,_ see..."

Arc pulled a map out of the bottom of his bed. "Luneth took this from one of the other rooms. Please don't tell anyone."

Ingus felt his face twitch. Not only did Luneth feel the need to interrupt his session, but he'd gone and _stolen a map_? Where had they been keeping a map anyway?

"They won't miss it. So, we have the world below us, right? Saronia-" Luneth tapped the icon marking Saronia in the north-east, "-is our most likely option for finding ships heading east, but I honestly doubt that those are being sent out very often."

"Why not?" Refia asked, quieting. She still frowned, but it appeared her intrigue had gotten the better of her frustration.

"The Cloud," Arc said. "They've been reestablishing contact for the past year after being frozen, so ships only get sent out every week or so."

Luneth continued. "Waste of time either way. So, we're leaving ourselves. Straight from here, down the east edge of the Continent, pass over the eastern portion of the land below, and continue east at an angle until we hit land again."

"And what if we don't find land?" Refia asked. "At what point will we turn around?"

"We don't." Luneth pulled the map up to his chin. "Check this out."

Arc took the cue and cast a spell, a small one given by the lack of chanting or motions. The paper of the map started to curve at the edges on its own, and the image distorted. The top compressed inward while the middle stretched outward, forming a partial sphere. A large circle, almost half of the sphere, was missing out of the side, but it was basically a paper globe, slowly lifting into the air.

Ingus narrowed his eyes. If that spell wasn't reversible, then Luneth was going to answer to the map's owner. "There's undiscovered land," Ingus said simply. "We knew that."

"Yes, we did," Arc said. "But our point here is that the author of the journal very specifically refers to a distinct eastern land and western land. He doesn't mean these two," he gestured between the two continents of the world below. "He passed by this one and called it the eastern _continent_ of the western _land_. So there's a western land and an eastern land, and the eastern land has got to be here." He gestured to the empty portion of the magicked globe.

"So we'll hit land eventually," Luneth said. "It's not just water forever. There's _definitely_ someone over there."

"And," Arc continued. "He flew from here, the east, which implies that it's the fastest direction. The _Nautilus_ is quick enough that we should know within a matter of days if we're on the wrong or right course. But if I have it all mapped out right, then we should be arriving, at the very latest, on the other land within a couple of days after we set out."

"You got that all figured out, did you?" Refia asked, folding her arms. Luneth and Arc nodded in sync.

Ingus watched the sphere slowly spin in the air. "How long do we plan to be gone?" he asked.

"That's the hard part," Arc said slowly, hesitantly. "I don't know _where_ he is over there. We're going to have to ask around, pinpoint locations, and there's no telling what the travel time will be like. We'll have the _Nautilus_ , but…"

"A week or two isn't so bad," Luneth said. "Refia, your dad was betting on you being gone for a bit anyway, right?"

Refia nodded. "Usually the king treats me to something nice, but I'm okay with a vacation instead. I'll send him a letter, I guess, let him know it could be just a little longer."

"Ingus," Arc said. "Are you sure the knights will be okay without you?"

 _If it keeps Luneth away..._ Ingus flicked his gaze from the sphere to Arc, who fidgeted a little at the attention. Ingus tightened his mouth into a fine line. "I would prefer to be back by the end of the week."

"That's doable," Luneth said. "Sounds like we'll be just fine. With me! Warriors of Light!" He punched a fist toward Ingus and Refia. "Come on! Say it with me!"

* * *

"I've got your flute," Goro greeted, waiting at the entrance to the Wise Owl Forest and holding up a small instrument.

"Oh," Toan took the flute, pleasantly surprised, "How did you convince Cacao to give it to you? Wait, how did you explain how you _knew_ about it?"

"Didn't do either of those things," Goro said, stamping through the gate into the shifting woods beyond, "He probably figures I'm going out for revenge, though. He wouldn't be wrong."

Toan frowned as he followed, "Do I want to know how you got this?"

"You wouldn't like it."

That was a _no_.

The sun-dappled forest swallowed them, its narrow paths winding deeper, deeper into the woods. They walked in silence, surrounded by the chirps and whistles of birds, following the paths of the owls. Xiao dashed in and out of the foliage that surrounded them, though never got too far away.

"Hey," Goro said.

"Hm?"

"What happened to your dad?"

Toan stumbled, train of thought shattering, "W-what?"

"Your mom's in Norune. You have a brother somewhere. Is your dad dead, or what?"

"Uhh," Toan fumbled for words, "Probably. I think so. Why?"

"I wanted to know."

Toan exchanged a glance with Xiao. They hadn't mentioned Steve's comments to the rest of the party, after Demon Shaft – without being certain of what he was implying, it didn't seem prudent to mention it to them.

… That hadn't changed.

The shifting green of the Wise Owl woods passed peacefully. They were getting close to the Killer Serpent now. Thankfully, Treant had been happy to give the Serpent Sword to Toan again – the old tree remembered the erased time, as well. So that was probably normal among the fae guardians of villages.

As well, Mom had been relieved when Toan and Xiao returned the night before. She seemed much more at ease now, knowing that they'd come back at least one more time before leaving the borders of the map. And the villagers had stopped looking at him sideways as well – apparently, while he and Xiao were on the road, Dran had left the depths of his cave just to make sure everyone knew that Toan was not, in fact, insane. Now Komacho had even sent a message ahead, so his cousin in Queens could make travel arrangements for when Toan arrived.

Dran's feathers, he was glad that whole 'I'm not crazy' issue was settled! He'd never for a moment doubted his own sanity, and it was distressing that his friends and family had.

The trees opened up into a wide clearing, with a dark cave to one side and a sealed wooden gate on the other. It was quiet here, compared to the rest of the woods – the smaller creatures likely knew to avoid this place.

Toan retrieved Cacao's flute from his pouch and looked into that cave, and it occurred to him that he could just walk right by. Once he got to Queens, he'd have no reason to ever come this way again. All that stood in his way was a little gate.

Well, that and his conscience. Toan played the flute as well as he knew how, which really wasn't much more than just puffing air into it, but it would do the trick. The Killer Snake had been a plague to the Matataki villagers for five – no, six years now. He'd killed it before, now it was time to do it again, and hopefully this time it would _stick_.

Although, if its death had been reversed… what about the Black Knight?

"Gotta say," Goro said, "I'm kind of glad it's back. Now I can watch it die in person."

Toan grimaced, drawing the Serpent Sword from his belt as he stepped toward the cave, "Just stand back." He didn't much like when a situation got to the point that he had to resort to killing, but he could understand Goro's spite – this snake had killed his father, after all.

Something shifted in the darkness.

 _Two._

 _One._

Blue shot into sight in a blinding flash. Toan dove to the side, but couldn't twist fast enough to slash the snake before it was facing him again, glaring down at him with mesmerizing amber eyes. It didn't seem to even notice Goro and Xiao as they kept their distance, but was entirely focused on Toan's scarlet sword.

Hmm, on second thought, perhaps he _didn't_ understand Goro's spite. Toan hadn't had a father growing up, so he supposed he couldn't really know what Goro went through when he lost his. Toan could sympathize, sure, but understand? Probably not.

The snake lunged, but not like last time. He couldn't jump over it – he had to duck under.

The Chronicle Two was a heavy weight against his side.

Slash as he rolled, cutting a long line through the serpent's belly.

 _If the Black Knight didn't die, then how do I have the Chronicle Two?_

The Killer Snake thrashed, then went limp. Toan got to his feet, brushing the dust from his elbows and knees.

History had been rewritten, and most of that he'd done in that phantom year never happened. But memories remained, and the Chronicle Two was still at his side. Clearly, some things hadn't been erased.

"That was fast," Goro commented. He sounded disappointed.

Toan just nodded, wiping the blood off his blade.

* * *

Flagg sat at his desk in this small, rented room. The culmination of a ten-year search rested before him, distilling inside a simple alembic. He didn't need to modify the substance like this, but a few of his sources reported that it went down easier when properly cooked.

He got to his feet, meandering over to the window. The capitol sprawled out before him, seagulls flocking through its skyline. It had been a long time since his country had gone to war, but that didn't concern him as it once had. The gleaming liquid behind him was sure to secure his future, after all it had cost. First in the years tracking down those sources, and then in the simple monetary cost of procuring a live corrupted fairy.

Flagg looked back at the dripping, violet blood. He'd met some resistance when he'd given the order to drain the fairy dry while it was alive, but it was simple enough to deal with. Overly naïve ideas of right and wrong tended to move aside quickly when faced with the threat of never being able to find a job again.

The thing was quite inarguably evil anyway. Sure, the process made even him a little queasy, but a bit of discomfort shouldn't have been enough for any of his subordinates to defy his orders.

Well, it was done now. Flagg grimaced to think that he'd had to resort to threats, but that was a small price to pay compared to everything else he'd gone through for this. He shut off the burner, and lifted the flask of distilled blood. Though it was violet, it smelled the same as human blood, with undertones of ash. There was still quite a lot of it, and his throat closed up at the thought of drinking it all.

 _This is it. No more fear. No more weakness. My life will be mine to do with as I please._

He brought the potion to his mouth, and almost choked in surprise.

It tasted… good.

When he'd emptied the flask, his muscles froze. Glass, flecked with fae blood, shattered on the floor. Something _other_ sparked in his mind, twisted under his ribs and writhed inside his gut. Spread through his every muscle, permeating his body. For a full minute, he couldn't breathe.

Then he could move again. Flagg gasped and dropped to his knees, gripping his head against a sudden, pounding headache.

 _You again._

The voice was his, and yet not. He gulped, clenching his fists. _The Dark Genie, I presume._

 _So I have been called, of late._

 _I command you–_

Laughter, reverberating through his bones. Flagg's spine straightened of its own volition, and memories flooded through his mind. Floating in the sky, raining death on the villages, towns, entire cities below – including Queens, where he was sitting now. Facing a titan warrior made of metal, the strain of the fight destroying his body.

He broke out in a cold sweat. The laughter continued.

 _You understood me better in that timeline, General. But then, you had the advantage of my presence in recent history, as well as a more direct manifestation of my body to work with. I suppose I'll have to make do with you now – don't worry, I'll be careful not to break you. You are valuable to me, for now._

"The records," Flagg said, trying not to tremble, "They say you give power in return for loyalty."

 _Indeed I do. You could have even more than your memory shows – in time, you may even be able to withstand the forces at play against creatures such as the Sun Giant. First, however, there are those who would destroy you for using my power. If you do not eliminate them quickly, they will succeed._

"Who?"

 _I will tell you when it suits me. Right now, you must go to the southern border. There, I will direct you to an ally – a soldier of utmost loyalty, who will serve you well._

Oh, a soldier was it? Flagg relaxed, climbing to his feet and smoothing out his uniform. So there were yet some things he had to do to cement this power. He could tolerate that, so long as his comfortable retirement was assured.

 _Oh, I assure you, you will either retire in luxury, or die. Whichever occurs is entirely up to you._

He went to the door, calling down the hallway, "Captain!"

"Sir?"

"Prepare the ship! We sail for the southern border immediately!"


	6. Chapter 6

_"I could do nothing alone._ " - Ingus

Refia fidgeted with the collar on her dress. It had been hard enough to get the servants to leave out the frilly stuff that she gave up on trying to get a dress that wasn't awfully _restrictive_. At least they hadn't given her one of Princess Sara's monstrosities. The last thing she needed to worry about today was being strangled by her own headdress. At least what they gave Refia was reasonably attractive and simple. It was a little tight around the bodice and neck, but the sleeves opened up into loose, long drapes and the skirt flowed with the movement of her legs, even if it was a little long and heavy and too light of a blue to blend into anything but the sky.

Completely impractical, like the heels of her shoes that clicked, so loudly that she was sure everyone in the castle could hear it.

A couple of passing gentlemen – nobility? Councilmen? – passed by, tipping their hats. Refia kept her gaze fixed ahead, ignoring them. She was pretty sure that acknowledging the gesture _could_ be seen as an invitation to _converse_ , and from what she remembered of Ingus's endless lectures on court etiquette, a single misspoken word could lead to a blood feud that would last for a dozen generations.

And perhaps that wasn't _quite_ accurate. But Refia wasn't about to take the chance.

Wind gusted through the corridors, blowing dead leaves along the stone ground. Refia rubbed at her arms. This stupid dress didn't provide any warmth, and there was no feasible way of adding layers without, in Princess Sara's words, looking like a barbarian. But then, Sara's concern with fashion seemed almost obsessive at times - maybe she should get someone else's opinion on the matter.

Pursing her lips, Refia passed some giggling servant girls. Feeling a wave of self-consciousness wash over her, she absently fingered the back of the dress, checking for ripped seams or a noticeable stain or something. She found nothing, of course.

Really, most people here probably didn't care what she looked like. And to those who did, she was a Warrior of Light. Protector of the Crystals, vanquisher of the Cloud of Darkness.

Blacksmith-in-training, from a small mining village…

But it _was_ just a dinner. Refia just had to survive the evening, and then she could be done worrying about how she was dressed. She could get back into tights and boots and not worry about getting tangled in her own clothes, or embarrassing her friends.

Refia paused outside of Arc and Luneth's door. Sara had lectured her at length last night about visiting the chambers of a man – or men – alone as a lady, but Refia was ready to slit her wrists after an hour with those ladies and their needles. And besides, she'd travelled and fought beside these two and Ingus for a full _year_ \- they were _hardly_ strangers.

Puffing her chest out, but also being careful not to strain at the fabric imprisoning her airways, Refia knocked twice at the door. An unintelligible, muffled answer came and Refia hesitated before cracking the door open. "Hey," she said. "It's me."

"Whoa!" Luneth said, appearing in the crack. "Hi! What did they do to you? Arc! Come look! They took the real Refia and swapped her out for a horrible imposter!"

"Hey!" Heat rising to her face, Refia scowled and forced her way in, shutting the door behind her. "Hush!" she hissed, "There are people outside."

She hesitated then, taking in the view of their room. It was larger than hers, but that should have been a given from having two people in it instead of one. They had a whole other room for the closet, and two slighter smaller beds than hers. Besides that, the room was pretty barren, aside from a wardrobe in the corner.

"Since when did you care about what people think?" Luneth asked. "Wow, they really _did_ do something to you, didn't they?"

Refia frowned. "I _don't_ care. But this is really important to Sara - she _lives_ here, you know. All the nobles that are going to be here… we don't have to deal with them, but she does. All the time."

Arc's short figure appeared in the corner, tying a buckle around his vest. Blinking, Refia looked at Luneth again. They'd also both been forced into some nicer vestments, with leather mantles and images of dragons burned into the leather. Luneth's attire was purple themed, with a short, decorative cloak slung at his shoulder, while Arc's was green and extending into a full skirt. The soldier and the scholar, Refia noted.

"Festive," Refia said flatly, noting personalized sigils in their vests. "Very bright."

"Speak for yourself," Luneth said. "You could attract moths with that thing."

Refia looked at the dress, biting back a retort. "At least I know how to blend in with high society, unlike you two uncultured swines."

"Ah- _ha!_ Now it makes sense! You're Ingus in disguise!"

"Hey, hey," Arc said, waving a hand in attempt to fan down the invisible flames. "What are we doing here? What's happening?"

"Nothing," Refia and Luneth said in sync.

"Refia, did you want something? … Sorry, that was kind of abrupt, wasn't it?"

Refia frowned. She didn't want to admit that she'd just wanted their company, a familiar presence among all these royals that were more concerned with the state of their hair than things that things that really mattered, like the recent sightings of the legendary blacksmith.

"I…" she said slowly, "Was just dropping in to make sure you weren't about to burn the castle down." It wasn't strictly dishonest – the four of them were all quite good at what they did, in Refia's humble and entirely unbiased opinion, it was just… well. For most people, an 'accident' was tripping over one's own feet, or dropping a delicate work of glass. But when one had the power to call down a whirlwind from the heavens, it was good practice to try and be sure that 'accidents' _didn't happen_.

Luneth rolled his eyes, "Come on. Arc isn't _that_ clumsy."

Arc gave Luneth a flat look.

"And," Refia continued, "I was thinking, Sara and the king are being really generous with this feast thing. Do you think there's some way to repay them?"

"Actually," Arc said, "We've been talking about learning how to do magic shows. It means we'll need to plan something out, but-"

Luneth scoffed. "Who needs a plan? All the most genius inventions have been caused by mistakes!"

Arc looked confused. "Um, no. No, they haven't. They've taken years and years of work. That's why we haven't been able to replicate the Ancients' engineering."

"Says the scholar. You just eat up the lies that the library feeds you."

"They're not lies…"

"Come on, are you really saying you believe the idea that the Sacrean had any idea what they were doing when they slapped the title of 'Gaia' on the planet? I checked it out. Gaia is actually the name of a _person_."

"A person that was the personification of earth life. It was derived from-"

"Either way, it's a little egotistical, if you ask me. He probably knew that the world was a planet instead of an eternal plain and tried to use that to turn himself-"

"Herself."

"-Into a god."

Refia waved her hand, "Forget it. I'll just ask Ingus how to say 'thank you' in Royalese after the feast."

* * *

Water lapped the pond's shore near Flagg's feet, pushed by a light wind. Small villages were scattered throughout this area, along the foothills of the mountains that marked the southern border. Beyond those mountains lay the lawless desert, full of tribes that warred among themselves. There were a few trade routes through the mountain passes, but they were well-established as fae territory. Few traders were willing to brave those roads, and no war could pass through them.

Although records of those who had tried to take war across the mountains were often quite entertaining. Fairies liked to get _creative_ with those who infringed on their fair dungeons.

"Now," Flagg muttered, safely out of earshot of his men, "Will you tell me what we are here for?"

 _It will be easier to show you. Take hold of my power._

"… How?"

 _Remember the fairy that I controlled, and what it felt like to hold its life in your hands._

He remembered. It had been unsettling at the time, and yet the memory was… comforting, now.

 _Hold out your hand. Imagine the fairy's life is in your palm, right now._

He did.

 _Because it is. You can feel me. I am under your skin, inside your bones. You took me from the fairy, and with me came its life._

Flagg felt a smile pull at his mouth. He wasn't sure whose it was.

 _Now crush it._

He did. There was the slightest sense of pressure as he closed his fist, and then the air in front of him _tore_.

Cries of alarm came from his men.

 _At ease. I'll only be a minute._

"At ease," Flagg said, stepping into the portal, "I'll only be a minute."

The world shifted around him, breaking and churning and rebuilding. He felt like he was standing, but was sure that he was floating. The mountains were all that remained constant amid the chaos.

When it settled, his men were gone, as was his airship. The pond remained – it was slightly larger, he thought – and a few structures had sprung up nearby, including a sizeable wall near the pond's opposite shore. A dirt road led down the hill he stood on now, and he could hear the sounds of a bustling city further on.

 _See the mine entrance._

Yes, he could.

 _Your soldier waits inside._

Wary, Flagg entered the mine. Otherworldly shadows darted away as he stepped inside, and the air pressure seemed to spike. It was a fairy dungeon, though he didn't see any–

 _I have taken this place. Its denizens know better than to approach you without leave._

Huh. Interesting. Guided by the Genie, Flagg traversed the dark labyrinth. Some of the walls seemed to shift at his approach, curving outward. Growing larger for him.

He stopped in a wide cavern. Twisted metal was piled in the middle of the floor, but aside from that, the place was entirely empty.

"Where's my s–" Flagg started to ask, but was cut off as the Dark Genie abruptly took complete control of his body. He walked straight to the pile of metal, and stabbed his hand into it. Flagg mentally cursed at the cuts he felt open along his arm, but couldn't pull away.

"Flotsam," a warped version of his voice said, "You are barely better than useless, but you have a singular talent for not dying, and I have few options at this time. Return to me."

Violet energy exploded from his hand, curling into tendrils around the shredded metal. The metal shuddered, and started to shift. The Dark Genie withdrew Flagg's hand, stepping back as the pile of scrap formed into a vaguely humanoid shape.

 _Snap. Crack._

The metal – now a man – screamed in pain.

Control returned to him, and Flagg scowled, "A _robot clown?_ You told me I would have a soldier!"

 _He will obey orders,_ the Dark Genie replied. He sounded sardonic, _to the best of his limited ability. His first master made quite good use of him – do you believe yourself incapable of doing the same?_

"I am _capable_ ," Flagg snapped, and waited for the clown's screams to die down, " _You_. Come with me."

Breathless, his… _soldier_ … hurriedly nodded.

 _You are weak_ , the Genie whispered, _but you will be strong. You have used my power to move to the future, now you must use it to return to your time. You have influence there – use it to protect your fledgling power. With every enemy you destroy, your strength will grow._

* * *

Ingus reluctantly took his position, standing to the right of the king. Sara was all the way on the left side of King Altney, so appar

ently intelligent conversation would have to wait until after. At least Refia was the one on Ingus' other side, with Luneth after that, so he was safe in that regard. He had a little protection. The gathered lords and ladies remained quiet as King Altney introduced Ingus and the others, some looking on with awe, others masking contempt of varying degrees. Ingus avoided catching any of their gazes as he quickly scanned the crowd.

"… As they have so graciously protected us!" the king was saying, raising his glass. "To the Crystals and their champions!"

Agreement echoed through the crowd, everyone raising their own glass accordingly. Ingus held his out, trying not to notice Arc barely moving his own further than his chest. Luneth threw his glass up so fast, the wine inside sloshed out and spilled over his glove. Refia, thankfully, had been through enough of these to do the motion properly. Though she could use a little work straightening out her posture.

The harp and fiddle players took their cue as everyone sat and soft music filled the banquet hall. Ingus let himself relax a little. Luneth was bragging to Refia about something, but they were relatively calm. He could trust his friends to not make a spectacle of themselves, sometimes.

"Ingus," the king said, grabbing his attention whilst cutting into his flank of lamb. "You don't have to be back this week. I can arrange for a longer trip."

Ingus glanced between him and Sara, who sat calmly sipping her wine. "It shouldn't take that long, majesty."

"We're not at war, Ingus. There's nothing to say I can't assign your men to another squad for the time being. Let yourself have fun for once!"

Luneth and Refia started arguing to Ingus' right. "I… don't consider this 'fun,' majesty. Please don't think I'd prefer to be away."

"Oh, I'm not thinking anything of the sort." The king took a bite, ripping meat from his fork. "I'm sure you love it here, but all men need a break sometimes. You haven't had a rest since you got back all those months ago! Do yourself a favor. Enjoy the trip. Bring back some tactical information we can use in improving the efficiency of our own troops, or maybe some nice decorations for my chambers. Or Sara's, am I right, dear?"

"I don't need foreign trinkets, father," she sighed, casting a knowing glance to Ingus. "Ingus can get whatever he wants."

"Either way," the king said. "We'll manage. Don't rush."

Ingus picked up his knife, casting a glance to Sara. She shrugged, mouth quirking in a nonchalant way as if to say "nothing I can do."

"Hey!" Refia hissed beside him. Turning, Ingus saw that her cup had spilled and she was struggling with Luneth over cleaning it up. One of them, Ingus couldn't trace the magic, froze the water over, stopping it from dripping to the floor. "What do you think you're doing?" Refia demanded.

"I-I don't know-" Arc stammered. "I just thought we should stop it."

Ingus felt his heart beat almost right out his chest. In the hall, some were turning their heads to see what the commotion was about.

"Hey!" Luneth said, touching the frozen puddle. "That looks almost like a lake!"

The three hesitated. "Doesn't this place have a lake?" Refia asked. She cast a glance to the king, who didn't even turn his head.

Luneth moved his fingers – a bad habit of his and the reason why Arc would always be a better magician – and the water from his own cup moved to the frozen puddle. Icicles formed upwards from the table, shaping into… towers?

"Oh, my," King Altney said, finally noticing. "What's this?"

Ingus swallowed hard as Arc froze, Refia glanced between the ice and the king, and Luneth said simply, "It's your castle! You wanted a show, right?"

More turned heads. Ingus fought to control his breathing. It would do no good to hyperventilate, it would only fog his mind and dull his senses. He waited with baited breath as the king looked on, face unreadable. Arc at least had the good sense to be afraid. The other two grinned like children showing off a handcrafted wooden sword or their first set of breastplate.

"Oh, good!" the king said. "Do continue!"

By this point the whole hall had riveted their attention on the four. Ingus breathed. In. Out.

The three set to work, pulling in water from all over the room. The castle grew, towers expanding higher. Servants hastily grabbed the plates from the table, saving the forgotten food from the spreading ice. Arc appeared to focus on the towers and battlements while Luneth took the walls and base. Refia developed wildlife and scenery around the castle, fine trees and bushes lining the walls and dotting the landscape where they didn't exist in reality. It wasn't even an accurate depiction of the castle.

But he refrained from saying anything. Only silently, motionlessly, scooted some of the shrubbery over and removed gratuitous trees.

Clapping sounded. The music turned lively and jovial. Some whispered, impressed. Others scoffed in disbelief. "Can you believe this?" someone whispered close to the front. "The Crystals chose such _children_?"

Ingus stopped. Refia kept adding, this time moving on to farmers and soldiers.

"Check this out, your majesty!" Luneth said as a figure formed in front of the castle, posed with his hands on his hips and chest puffed out. The king.

"What a likeness! Don't you agree, Sara?"

"If you say so, fa-" Sara cut off as another figure formed on top of the castle. Two figures. A girl, with a veil flowing from her head, dress swirling to the side, linking hands with a boy in a flowing cloak and armor and hair that-

 _That's me._

Ingus choked. Sara flushed as red as the drapes hanging from the wall. The king laughed heartily. Luneth, Arc, and Refia finished with a bow and the room erupted into applause as Luneth gestured and the name "Sasune" appeared in a flash of glittering frost above the sculptures.

* * *

The air smelled like salt, and Toan could see seagulls flocking near the harbor. Queens had become – or perhaps turned back into – a maze of streets and crowded buildings, disorienting in its similarity to fae labyrinths. There were people shouting at every corner. The city had a _lot_ more people than he remembered.

 _I guess with so many, the Fairy King couldn't save everyone._

Xiao huddled in his arms, disturbed by the crowds. It was just the two of them now, as they had parted ways with Goro at Master Utan's abode. Toan watched carefully for the distinctive shape of King's house. If he remembered correctly, and if it hadn't changed, then that building should look very different from the hundreds that were boxed in tight around these streets.

Ah. There it was, giant car and all. Toan slipped between the fence's poles, and rang the doorbell.

No response. He tried again.

After about a minute, Jake opened the door, "Wha– you lost, kid? Beat it!"

"Where's King?" Toan asked.

Jake leaned back, agape at his audacity, "Who wants to know?"

"I'm here to talk to Ruby."

"Oh, I get it now. You're a _nut_."

Jake tried to slam the door, but Toan stuck his foot inside, grimacing as it was smashed against the door frame. "Sorry," he said, letting go of Xiao as he shouldered past Jake, feeling rather like a bully. King and his goons were a smug, greedy lot, but as far as Toan knew, they were as frail as any human. It didn't feel fair to push them around.

Jake sputtered angrily, throwing a punch that Toan subconsciously slipped past. Stew appeared in one of the doorways inside, with King close behind him. They seemed to be curious about the commotion.

Unfortunately for them, Toan didn't know how to interact with this new Queens. So he was just going to cut right to the heart of the matter, and be out of here as soon as possible.

"Jake," King said, "What's going on?"

Jake spun on his heel, "Sir! I'll deal with this immediately!"

"Please," Toan said, dodging again as Jake tried to grab him, "This would be a lot simpler if you would just listen."

King just took a long draw from his giant cigar. Stew cracked his knuckles and stepped in to help Jake. Toan grimaced. Trying to talk while avoiding them both… that would be far more trouble than it was worth. But in these close quarters, he ran the risk of seriously injuring the goons if he used a weapon.

So Toan danced between them, hands in his pockets so he wouldn't instinctively draw a blade. Hop onto the table, inhale–

 _There._

Jake and Stew were wild. Uncoordinated. It took less than a second for Stew to leave himself wide open, and only a moment longer for Jake to do the same.

Toan used the opportunity to kick them both in the stomach.

Step off the table. And exhale.

King seemed torn between fear and amusement as he asked, "Who are you?"

"Toan. I'm here to talk to Ruby."

"What, are you a genie too?"

Toan considered saying no. But instead merely remained silent. At length, King wiped away some sweat beading on his forehead, and chuckled nervously as he retrieved Ruby's lamp from his desk.

Xiao hopped up beside him the moment the lamp was in view, and rubbed up against it.

King shrieked.

Thick smoke billowed from the lamp, coalescing in seconds. When the haze cleared, a woman with sharp eyes and lavender hair floated a couple of feet off the ground, posed as though she was lounging in a chair rather than hovering in the air. For a brief moment, she wore a smile that could melt flesh.

Then she noticed Toan. And blinked.

"Meow!"

Ruby looked to the two men on the floor who now seemed to be pretending they were dead, and then to the one cowering in the corner, "Why, King, who is this?"

Toan felt his gut drop down to the Shipwreck, "You don't remember?"

Ruby's head snapped back toward him, looking as though he'd just slapped her with a live fish, "You _do_?"

Xiao hopped up and down, "Mrrow!"

"Wait," Ruby turned to look at the cat, "Is this… _Xiao?_ "

"No shape-change potion this time around," Toan explained, "You wouldn't happen to know where we could find one, would you?"

"Meow!"

"I–" Ruby shook her head, and dropped to stand on the floor, "My, my. I've never known a mortal to remember another timeline – ah, polymorphing is an exceptionally powerful magic. I assume the Fairy King helped you before?"

"Seda, actually."

"Ah. Right, he was real chummy with the old guy, wasn't he?"

"He… did seem to be."

"Although," Ruby looked thoughtful, "Seda had some pretty strong magic of his own, given the whole ' _Dark Genie'_ plus witch blood thing. It's possible he – you said it was a potion? It's possible he made it himself. Some of the strongest witch-blooded can alter their own bodies, and the Fairy King and Dark Genie can extend that power to someone else. Some crystals can imbue similar power… but, uh, since you kind of killed your Atlamillia, I don't think you're going to get another one."

It was Toan's turn to blink, "Um. There's more than one?"

Ruby chuckled, "Oh, sweet child, there are _countless_ crystals. Anyway, do you still talk with old Simba?"

"… I haven't seen him since the reset."

"Aw, well. In that case, I don't know a way to get Xiao access to her human form. Sorry, Xiao."

"Mew…"

"Well, thanks anyway," Toan said, "But that's actually not why we're here. Something's wrong with time."

"Oh?" Ruby floated back into her invisible chair, "Do tell."

"Well, there's the missing moon–"

"That wasn't caused by you."

Toan stuttered, "W-what?"

"There's a timeline between here and the one we traveled together in. I guess you don't remember that one?"

"Um. No."

Ruby nodded, "Good. I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised that you remember our travels, given your Atlamillia, but if you remembered more timelines than that… then I'd be really worried. Anyway, something happened in the line you don't remember that erased the blue moon. I don't know what exactly happened – it was before my time."

"Before your time? How–" thankfully, Toan had the presence of mind to cut himself off right there, and instead quickly said, "Ah, the thing is, my, um, father–" would that word _ever_ stop feeling weird? "When the timeline changed, it didn't affect him."

Ruby frowned, "How do you mean?"

"I mean, he knew that the Dark Genie was going to destroy the east before it happened. And he still knew that. In this time."

"… I see the problem now."

"Xiao and I are going to the west," Toan said, "Do you think you could look into the problem here? I can lend you the map, if you need it."

"Yes, that would be helpful. Although, before we deal with that, there is a little matter here that has been unresolved by your reset. It's only going to get worse with time, so it's best we deal with it immediately…"


	7. Chapter 7

" _Me, saving the world? Not likely. But I want to give it a shot, anyway."_ – Goro

The trip was uneventful, compared to some of Max and Monica's other experiences. The woods between Norune and Queens were quiet and peaceful, with few aggressive creatures to slow their progress. They had to kill a few monsters along the way, but Max could count them on one hand and it had been, what, a few days? At most? What made it different from the Rainbow Butterfly Wood?

Despite their smooth progress through the land, Max couldn't help but feel bothered by the images he still saw in his mind's eye from time to time. Flashes from between following the pink genie into the pit, and waking up at the sky-piercing twer. He remembered seeing something, something strange. Something like bunny ears, and a strange dance, and darkness.

"Almost there," Monica announced, shaking him out of his reverie.

They approached a village now, one marked on the map provided by the kind people of Norune as a good waypoint for any journey. It was built between a cliff side and the rest of the forest, giving them a better view of the sun than what they had in the heart of the woods.

Max glanced down at the map, nose crinkling as he tried to find out how to pronounce the name. "Matatawaki–Matatatata–ki. Matatataki Village?"

It was quiet, empty. Being the middle of the day, maybe everyone was out to their jobs. "Where's this guardian that the people talked about?" Monica asked "Does the map say?"

"No, but they said that once we entered the gate, there should be a small thicket after a tunnel he's in."

"That one?"

It was a sparse village – more of a hamlet, really, given what he'd read about such things in his history books – so the gaping tunnel on the far end of the visible civilization wasn't exactly hard to pick out. Max wondered if that was a sign that this was the past.

"Let's check it out," Max said. "If he's as wise and powerful as they say, maybe he'll be able to tell us where and when we ended up."

The thicket was cool, cooler even than the rest of the forest, which was saying something. Despite the summer temperatures back in Norune, Max found himself rubbing at his arms in the dark shade here. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dark. The sun was high in the sky, but the overhead here was thick enough to turn high noon into the first light of dawn.

"Ah."

Max stopped with Monica as she fixed a stunned gaze toward the ceiling. They stood before a pond with an enormous, dark tree growing out of it, and Max wondered why exactly he-

The tree shifted in the shadows, and large yellow eyes blinked open on its trunk. Under those eyes, Max could now see that it also had giant nostrils just above the water's surface.

It rumbled.

"Jurak," Monica said, breathless. "Here?"

The giant tree rumbled again.

Max poked Monica's shoulder, "Do you think it's trying to say something?"

"What? Oh!" Monica held up a hand toward the tree, "One moment, please."

She gathered magic in her hand, then lightly tapped Max's forehead. Light flashed, and it felt like a floodgate opened in his mind, sending a rush of cool water through his thoughts.

"As I was saying," the tree rumbled, "It intrigues me that you would know that name - Jurak hasn't even seen the sun yet. He's barely seeded. Unless… oh, you smell of another era. You two are time travelers?"

"Yes," Monica said. "Only, we don't know which time we're in now."

"Well, I am no sage, but it sounds like you're from the future. Quite far in the future by human reckoning, if you mistake me for Jurak. I am Treant. Pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Treant!" Max said. "We didn't mean to intrude on your village, but we're trying to hunt down a deadly creature and we heard he might be in Queens. Would you happen to know anything about that?"

"Deadly creature? You'll have to be more specific."

"We're not entirely sure of its name," Monica said. "It was a fat, purple genie that-"

"No," Treant said, "It couldn't be the rat… but perhaps… hm…"

"What are you thinking about?" Max asked.

"A great number of things, little sprout. When timelines get wound in knots, the best path to take is often… circuitous. Yes, that is a good word for it." Treant breathed deep, "Near the waterfall, on the outskirts of the village, there is a path up into the cliffs. At the end of the path, there lives a boy named Goro - tell him what you've told me, and I believe he will give you the help you need."

Max looked forlornly toward the thicket's entrance. This was starting to feel an awful lot like a wild goose chase. "Okay," he said. "We'll look for him."

* * *

Treant's directions were pretty easy to follow, at least. Though once they'd arrived, Max had to pause. There was a house here, yes. Built on top of a _tree_.

He pulled out his camera, and snapped a couple of pictures.

He and Monica slowed as they approached the house, Monica staring intently at the ladder that extended to the ground. A ladder by itself shouldn't be too much of a problem, but Max could understand her apprehension. This one didn't look like it could support anything much heavier than a squirrel.

Before they could start climbing, however, a stocky kid wearing a bear's pelt appeared above them, on the platform around the main building, and leaped off. Monica jumped away as Max yelped in surprise. The kid landed with a heavy thud before them before straightening, a massive hammer resting on his shoulder.

"Whaddya want?" he grumbled, casting a suspicious look at Max's camera.

Max hurriedly put it away, as Monica put her hands on her hips. "We didn't even touch your door."

"Save yourself the trouble." The kid turned on his heel, "If you're lookin' for directions, try talking to _anyone else_."

"Wait!" Max said, "Goro!"

The kid paused, and slowly turned back around, his eyes narrowed to slits, "How do you know my name?"

"Treant sent us," Monica replied, "We're looking for a… a particular monster. Does 'the rat' mean anything to you?"

Goro growled, lifting his hammer and slamming it down beside him so hard that Max swore the ground vibrated. "The rat is _dead_."

"What _is_ the rat? Is it a pseudonym, or-"

"No," Goro snapped, "It was just a rat. It got sealed into an urn with this stupid thing called the Dark Genie, and came out with incredible power. Blew up most of the world, not that anyone remembers it now. We destroyed the Genie long before he got sealed up - there's _no way_ the rat came back."

Oh, another time traveler. So _that_ was why Treant had sent them here.

"Who's 'we'?" Max asked. If they could get more people together who had some idea of what was going on, then-

"Nobody important. I did most of the work, anyway."

"Dark Genie," Monica muttered, "Dark Element…"

Max glanced at her, "Do you think they're the same?"

"It's hard to say. The genie in the mine said that he created the Dark Element, so…"

"Where're you from?" Goro asked.

"Huh? Why?"

"'Cause you didn't blink when I talked about people not remembering stuff that happened. And I've been around a lot of places, and I've _never_ seen clothes like yours."

"Oh," Monica smiled, a bit sheepishly, "We're from the future."

"Hmph. Figures. Lemme guess - the Dark Genie, or whatever you call it in the future, is messing stuff up in your time. It's too strong to beat there, so you came back here to defeat it when it's still weak. Except I guess it's learned from last time, and now it's hiding out."

Max frowned, "Uh… no. That's not even close."

"Let's back up a bit," Monica said, "This Dark Genie - it's a fat, purple thing? Big fangs, curly-toed shoes?"

Goro scowled, "No. That's the rat. Got its power from the Dark Genie. Now _dead_. You saw the _rat_ in the future?"

"We fought it," Max said, "But we didn't kill it. We followed it into a pit, and then… well, we're not sure what happened. The next thing we remember is waking up at a huge tower."

"… How huge a tower."

"What?"

"About a hundred floors huge?"

"Uh… maybe?"

"East of here?"

Max nodded, "Yeah."

"Hmph. Demon Shaft."

"Is that important?"

"I dunno," Goro said, "I barely understood how _we_ defeated the Dark Genie, and this sounds _way_ more complicated."

"So," Monica said, "The Dark Genie is…?"

"Embodiment of hatred, or something like that. It possesses people, gives them power, turns their eyes red. When we killed it, it said it would come back eventually, 'cause hatred can't be destroyed." Goro's mouth pulled to one side, "Tch. If you're trying to solve a puzzle, I can't help you."

Well of _course_ -

"But I might know someone who can. You know how to get to Queens?"

* * *

The small shop on the waterfront was busy, people filtering in and out each hour. Through the windows, ships could be seen traversing the harbor, either docking or departing. The sun shone clearly in a lightly clouded sky, and King and the Joker's mischief was at a record low.

Yes, Rando thought as he rested behind his counter, it was a pleasant day, all things considered. His own shop wasn't exactly ignored by the traffic. In fact, it was quite busy. He could already see number estimates in his mind's eye, all those digits.

Although most smuggling operations would disagree with him. With the hundredth anniversary of a certain wedding night approaching, a restless spirit in the sunken ship had awoken. It attacked intruders, and could be heard wailing when the moon was new. He'd heard some fairies had even been seen in those drowned corridors, drawn by some malevolent force.

Rando glanced back toward the door to his room. Inside that room, there was a small box in the corner. And in that box was a crystal ball. It would keep him alive forever, and all he had to give in return was…

Nothing that he hadn't lost a hundred years ago.

By the midnight ocean, he missed her…

The door opened, and a tall woman with lavender hair sauntered inside. _Ruby_. Rando scrambled to his feet, smiling nervously. The shop had gone deadly silent.

"Good morning," Rando said, "May I help you with anything?"

An armed, confident-looking boy with a cat at his feet had entered just behind the genie. He gave a narrow glance around at the customers in the shop, and Ruby responded by jabbing a finger at the door, "Everyone out."

 _Are they… friends?_ Rando wondered. He certainly didn't know what went on behind closed doors in King's house, but the few times he'd seen the mob boss and genie together, they had _not_ been as friendly with each other as Ruby and this boy. So far as he knew, Ruby wasn't friendly with anyone, and yet this random kid that Rando had never seen before–

Was now leaning on Rando's counter – the cat jumped up to sit beside his arm – glaring at him, "Hi. Remember me?"

Oh no. He tried to recall any green hats or orange shawl-things or tabby cats recently, but came up blank, "I'm sorry."

The boy looked to Ruby. She shrugged, "It's plausible that he doesn't remember. But then, he is exceptionally good at keeping secrets."

What?

No. She couldn't know.

Rando chuckled nervously, "I'm sorry?"

The boy turned back to him, "We're not the ones you should be apologizing to."

"Oh," Ruby said, "That's a matter of opinion."

" _Mrrow_."

The cat did not sound happy, and Ruby's tone strongly implied that she didn't really consider this issue 'a matter of opinion', though Rando had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to apologize to her and her friend for. He inched backward. He was reasonably confident that the orb would protect him if they tried to kill him, but… he wasn't certain.

"Okay, yeah," the boy said, "You're right. And Rando, I'd stop moving if I were you."

The boy's hand was on the hilt of the crystalline orange-ish red sword at his side. Ruby was now hovering a few inches above the ground. Only the cat seemed relaxed, its tail shifting slowly behind it.

Rando held perfectly still.

The boy leaned forward, both arms now resting on the counter. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, "If you remember, then go ahead and say so now. Otherwise, I'll explain it to you."

He said nothing.

"Fine. You used us to get to your dead fiance. She nearly killed us, and then you dropped in and gave up immortality so you could be with her. But now, none of that has actually happened. La Saia's here, and she's angry and hurt, so we've got to go through all of this again. So if we could just skip to the 'you both rest in peace' part, that would be great."

Rando blinked.

Ruby floated around the counter, snatching a small case inside one of the drawers, "We're going to put her to rest either way. She was brought back by the radiant energies of the Moon Orb, and that kind of power in the hands of an angry spirit isn't something that can be left alone. You can either go with her, or I can just break your ball right here."

"What?!" Rando yelped.

The boy flinched, "Er, isn't that a bit harsh?"

 _Yes, please, listen to him–_

"It's an evil artifact, Toan," Ruby said, "Or at the very least, it's the worst kind of neutral artifact. Immortality in exchange for the most precious part of a life? No. Not in my city."

Ah, so his name was Toan. That was nice to know.

Toan met Rando's eyes, "You still want to be with her, right?"

"I–" Rando glanced at the genie. There was no way he could take her on. "I don't see that I have a choice."

"You could move away."

Wood splintered between Ruby's fingers as her eyes narrowed, "Toan…"

"It would be murder, Ruby."

"He should have died decades ago."

"It would still be murder."

"It would not."

The two locked gazes over the counter. Rando looked between them, then raised his arms in surrender, "Calm down. Please. I'll do it. Look, I– if I have to leave this place… leave her… then… I'd rather be dead anyway."

The words shocked him as they left his mouth. Mostly because they were true. He'd never been able to face the guilt of abandoning La Saia, always passing it off, year after year, as some fleeting thing. Something he would get past, eventually. But it had been a century now, and–

Wow, wait. Had he just agreed – _agreed_ – to give up immortality? What was _happening?_

Although, none of his three 'guests' seemed surprised. Toan seemed relieved, the cat looked disturbingly aware of what was going on, and Ruby…

Ugh, Ruby. In his hundred years of life, Rando hadn't learned much about genies, but he did know that she had been a fixture in this city since before he'd been born. She was actually the reason La Saia's ship was now used for smuggling – the submergers had been built specifically to retrieve her lamp from the wreck. For as long as Rando could remember, Ruby had been the bogeyman.

And yet now La Saia was literally haunting her ship, and some part of that was Rando's fault. As he ghosted through the years, watching his city while keeping his distance from her people. So, who was truly the bogeyman here?

"Is there anything you need to do?" Toan asked, "Any affairs to put in order?"

Rando shook his head, "No. Let's just go."

Go… to talk to La Saia. To see her again, after all these years, and finally apologize for leaving her at the altar… Rando looked at the glass sphere in Ruby's hand, and imagined it shattering.

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

* * *

 _Embodiment of hatred…_

Monica dug her fingers through the cloth of gloves and into her palms, as she walked alongside Max, following Goro through what he called the 'Wise Owl Forest'. She thought it had been over, this endless war across the eons. She'd been born to it, had the arrogance to think she could put an end to it…

But it would never be over, would it?

"Kind of an eerie coincidence," she muttered to Max, "That this friend of his is in Queens."

Max nodded, "Well, the knight did say that this thing would hunt people who've had Atlamillia. And if Goro's travelled through time…"

Ah. Of course. Either he'd had an Atlamillia at some point, or one of his friends did.

"Hey," Monica said, louder so that Goro would hear, "Who exactly is this friend of yours?"

"The most annoying woman you will ever meet," Goro growled, "Complains about _everything_. Even whines when you say 'Dark Genie', 'cause apparently it's not _really_ a genie, and it's not _really_ dark."

Max frowned, "Uh, then what _is_ it?"

"Tch. Don't know, don't care. You can ask Ruby when we see her."

"But you've beaten it before," Monica said.

The trees grew thicker overhead, blocking out more sun, and Goro idly tapped the head of his mallet against his hand, "Yeah. Beat up a bunch of fairies that it was possessing along the way, but those were just… symptoms. Seems like it needs a human host as a root before it can spread. And it got that root four hundred years ago. So we went back to that day, and destroyed it there."

"You killed the host?"

"What?" Goro blinked, "No. I mean, _I_ would've been all for that, but that wasn't the way to solve the problem. Turns out, my friend was able to use this shiny little rock of his to bring the host's wife back to life. She was dead, by the way. Anyway, we also went into an alternate dimension or something to beat the genie inside, but somehow it was bringing back the wife that actually got rid of it. Don't ask me how it works, I don't know."

Alternate dimension, huh? _That_ sounded familiar. Monica could still remember that endless night, full of stars and winding stairs that fell into a vast nothingness. The clock ticking down as the Star of Destruction drew ever closer. She shivered.

"We fought something similar," she said, "It even had a host, although he wasn't human. But there was this… hatred inside him, that created a monster, and twisted the world around him. And we could fight the monster, but if the host had continued to hold onto that hate, then… it didn't matter what we did. We would have lost."

"At least the view was nice," Max mused.

"If this is the same monster," Goro grunted, "Then you and I saw _very_ different things."

The branches above them cleared enough for sun to shine through, once more lighting the place in soft, golden green light. It was quiet, especially here where the villagers had all insisted that the animals were too friendly to hurt them. Did that also make them too friendly to live daily lives and make normal sounds?

"Hey-" Monica started. Goro held up a hand for silence and they quieted. Goro then made his careful way down the path, stepping surprisingly quietly despite having his thick frame.

"This is Sindain," Monica whispered while Goro made his way down.

"What?"

"Think about it. Treant, this forest dungeon – Palm Brinks is southwest, near the coast, which means that Balance Valley must be northwest, and Veniccio must be somewhere east of there. This is Sindain. Or, it's going to be."

Max glanced behind him, "So, that's what it was like before it gets– got– gets destroyed?"

Monica nodded, "I think so."

"I guess the firbits don't move in until all the humans are wiped out."

Monica cringed, "Uh. Yeah. I guess. Actually, I was thinking more about… I mean, I don't really know what to think about this place. Did you notice that this guy is wearing a _bear_? It's really _weird_."

"I guess that is pretty strange."

"I mean, I know the world can change a lot from one era to the next, but he's _wearing_ a _bear_."

Monica quickly hushed again as Goro reappeared, casting Max one last sideways glance.

"We're clear," Goro said, hefting his hammer back onto his shoulder. "Let's go."

* * *

Luneth sat, perched on a chair and staring at Ingus' still body. Ingus wasn't asleep–in fact his eyes were open and he sat in an upright position and was generally acting very _alert_ , but he didn't seem to register the fact that Luneth was there and didn't move in the slightest. His eyes stared dead ahead, not registering much of anything beside the other side of the wall. It was kind of insulting, really, on top of being downright creepy.

They were in Ingus' chambers and it was early, with the sun showing soft and golden through the many windows–seriously, how many windows did he _need_?

He frowned. They needed to be leaving soon, but something about the show last night must have upset Ingus, since he refused to leave his room, or even acknowledge Luneth's presence. Perhaps they hadn't placed their trees right. Ingus always _was_ a perfectionist. Perhaps he was just deeply insulted?

"You can be so picky," Luneth said with a sigh. "If you wanted it done differently, you could've told us."

Arc and Refia were already ready to leave, and yet Ingus wouldn't respond to Luneth's attempts to get him moving, or at even talking. Luneth cocked his head, poking Ingus' shoulder. "Hello?" he asked. He poked him again. "Are you in there? Should I prep a raise? Hey, maybe you'll answer a question I've had for a while. Do you actually enjoy giving up your whole life and soul to the king?"

Ingus knocked Luneth's finger away.

"There we go!" Luneth said, jumping from his chair. "You're alive! I was starting to get a little concerned that maybe we'd accidentally frozen your heart or something during the feast. Granted, I guess that's a little impossible since your heart's already _been_ frozen, like the World Below-"

Ingus leveled a withering glare on Luneth.

"Ingus! Luneth!" Refia huffed, coming in. "We need to go!"

Ingus moved his glare to her instead. "You just humiliated me in front of the entire court."

"Humiliated?" Refia shook her head. "You doofus, they're all just waiting for the wedding announcement. They loved it!"

"The wedding-?" Luneth began before Ingus cut him off.

"You turned me into the court fool."

"Did not. We merely affirmed what they already knew."

"Princess Sara and I have no such relationship."

This was about _Sara_?

"Oh, wonderful." Refia exchanged a look with Luneth. "He's delusional, isn't he? Poor guy. But for what it's worth, I had nothing to do with instigating the incident. And they've now stored the sculpture in a chilled display case in the Grand Hall. Probably better to just accept it now and move on."

"Right," Luneth said. "It's not like people are going to forget it anytime soon, anyhow."

"The Grand Hall?" Ingus blanched. "You… the _Grand Hall_? That _thing_ is in the _Grand Hall_? Right now?!"

Refia shrugged. "The king liked it so much, he had some mages enchant a box with a chilling spell and stored it there. I honestly had no idea, didn't think he could appreciate it if an Ancient painting smacked him in the face, but hey. Just when you think you know someone, right?"

Ingus stood, a little shakily. "Fine. Let's go. Right now."

"That's the spirit!" Luneth said. Before catching up with Ingus, Luneth turned to Refia. "Did they really put it in the Grand Hall?"

Refia shook her head. "King's chambers, actually. Personal decoration."

"Nice. We've got ourselves our first fan." Luneth pumped the air. "Does Arc know?"

"He's the one that enchanted the box."

"Dang, I wanted to be the one that broke the news. Ah, well. This will still help him get excited for our magic shows, I think."

"Magic shows?"

"I'll tell you all about it on the airship. Arc and I are gonna be famous!"

"Famous."

"Of course!"

"Because you're not already famous."

Luneth shrugged. "In some places we are. But other villages have never heard of us. And that's just unacceptable. Ingus!"

The knight–now captain, actually–had taken a different route through the castle, winding through some hidden stairs and tunnels. Where did these come from? "Hey!" Luneth shouted, rushing to keep up. A guy could get lost in this place.

"Where did these come from?" Refia asked, also picking up her pace to keep up with Ingus'. It was almost like he didn't _want_ them to follow him.

"Have they always been here?" Luneth asked. "I don't recognize them, either."

Ingus moved surprisingly fast for someone wearing as much plate as him. One would think that it weighed him down, or heated him up to the point where he couldn't run very fast or far, but his pace right now rivaled that of Arc when faced with a spider. Maybe it was because he was taller than Luneth and Refia. It was unfair, the fact that he inherited such height while Luneth's legs struggled to keep up.

"We have food," Refia said. "So you don't have to worry about that."

"Or weapons," Luneth said. "In fact, any supply you can think of, we've got it. So I hope you're not trying to get to a shop. How far down does this _go_?"

Ingus remained silent. Torches lit the way, likely enchanted with an everspell. Luneth cast Refia a questioning look, but she shook her head. She didn't know what he was doing, either. The stairs stopped, eventually, and they hit a long hallway. Ingus walked on and Luneth remained silent, curious to see where they would turn up. Who knew Sasune had secret tunnels?

They hit another set of stairs, this one ascending up for forever. Luneth's breathing became labored even as Ingus' pace slowed. How did he move so much without sweating? Guy was insane! Beside him, Refia also struggled, tugging at her collar. The torches kept the tunnel warm, and between that and the exercise, Luneth felt like he was going to suffocate in the heat. Ingus huffed once or twice on the way up, but that was it.

When stone walls finally gave way to the cold air of an early morning on the Floating Continent, Luneth paused just to take in the fresh, chill feeling seeping into his clothes again and cooling him off.

Arc waited for them at the airship, journal in hand as he sat on the steps leading up to the _Nautilus_. Luneth waved, catching his attention, and Arc snapped the book shut, jumping. The journal again.

"What took you?" he asked. "Is Ingus okay?"

"I'm fine."

Luneth shook his head as Ingus climbed into the ship. "I'm not so sure. He's acting a little bit too much like himself. Might be a sign of illness. Or possession."

Propellers started spinning–Ingus' doing–and Luneth grinned. He could see it already, the bird's eye view, the dotted landscapes. The Ancients certainly did a good job on these ships. They had yet to fail the orphans and the thought that Saronia _or_ Sasune could try to claim them as their own made Luneth grimace.

He quickly forgot his irritation again as the deafening roar of the engine drowned out all other sound. The sweet thrill of exploration made him giddy with excitement, watching Arc and Refia climb in after Ingus had started it up.

And then it started lifting into the air just as Luneth grabbed the ladder. "Hey! Don't leave me behind!"


	8. Chapter 8

" _This Queens is a town of merchant traders. Some items we handle are really rare and expensive. Such expensive items need special care in handling."_ – Rando

In a phantom cathedral, in the heart of a sunken ship at the bottom of Queens' harbor, Ruby stomped on the shards of the Life Sphere. To think that such a disgusting thing had been fouling her city for the past hundred years – _ugh_. But the descent into the core of this dungeon had been uneventful, and those two destructive, undead brats were finally dead, so she really ought to calm down and relish the victory.

It was just… _ugh_.

"So," Toan said, absently kicking the Moon Orb in a little game of catch with Xiao, as he leaned against one of the marble pillars, "What's the best way to travel west from here?"

"I can get you a ship," Ruby replied, kicking the shards one last time, "There have been rumors going around that the dusk fog has lifted, so there are several seaships going out that way already. Just hitch a ride on one of those, and you should be set."

"Actually, Komacho asked the sheriff to help me find a ship, so that works out. But, what's 'the dusk fog'?"

"The dark blanket over the west. It's some incredible disruption in the balance of dark and light, and it's been there for about ten years now. Though, with everything that's been happening recently, I think it really is gone."

"What if it's still there?" Toan asked.

"Then just turn around, and I'll get you an airship. It's better if you can go by sea, though – airships don't travel that way, so I'd have to use some… coercion to secure one. There's no way we could avoid your name getting tied to mine if that happened, and trust me, you don't want that."

Especially after this little outing. Ruby had known, from the moment she remembered defeating La Saia, that if she was going to fix this again, she'd have to face some ugly repercussions.

But that was the nature of remembering downward across timelines. It was a given part of life that consequences changed with context. In one time, she'd had the benefit of a city that knew the threat of the Dark Genie, and an Atlamillia wielder that they all recognized as a hero. Here, she had neither of those, but the problem of La Saia and Rando remained.

And no one was going to know why Rando had to die.

She probably could have suggested they do this in the middle of the night, but Ruby simply wasn't one to skulk around. She could deal with the fallout from this incident – the top priority right now was to get Toan out of town before it hit.

Speaking of, the boy from Norune was giving her a concerned look. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Ruby smiled at Toan's naivete. He probably didn't even realize what this was going to look like to the sheriff. She shook her head, and said, "Just thinking about everyone I need to reconnect with. King kept me bottled up for quite a while – oh, do you think I should burn down his house, or his car?"

"King? Is that really necessary? Without your lamp, isn't he kind of a non-issue?"

"Try to imagine being stuck in a lamp, Toan."

"… Alright, fair enough. His car, I guess."

"Wrong!" Ruby said, "The correct answer was 'both'."

Toan gave her a flat look. He _hated_ it when she did that. It was adorable.

And speaking of adorable, Xiao was chuckling. Ruby knelt to scratch the feline behind the ears, picking up the Moon Orb with the same motion, "I'll get this to Ungaga. You probably won't be able to leave until morning – do you have somewhere to stay?"

Toan pulled out the travel map.

"Ah, right. Nifty thing, that." Ruby got back to her feet, "Alright, let's get out of this wreck. I'll try and see you before you leave, but don't wait up for me."

* * *

Flagg flipped through a thick stack of papers – records of ships currently docked at Queens, their manifests and travel history, but most importantly, their current passenger lists.

"I'm not sure what you're looking for," he muttered, "But surely there's a better way to find it."

The Dark Genie whispered back, _there is an uneasiness in the back of your mind. Something that has the ghost of a sensation of touch. It is almost like metal, lying in the grass of an early spring morning._

That was… true. Flagg had first noticed it this morning, but hadn't given it much thought. Between the voice in his head, the slickness like oil in his veins, and the knowledge that control of his body could be taken from him at any moment, _this_ didn't seem worth his time to think about..

 _That feeling means a child of the crystals is near. This one, you've met. He controlled the giant machine that caused your downfall._

Flagg narrowed his eyes, and set down the papers, "And he's coming for me again?"

 _He will, sooner or later. But among your enemies, he may well be the most difficult to eliminate. He has a map that allows him to flit across Blue Terra, moment to moment. To deal with him, it will not help to know where he_ is – _we must know where he_ will be _._

"And he'll be on one of these ships."

 _It is likely. Do not concern yourself with this, however – merely read these, and I will deal with the matter later. For now, you must focus on another problem – four more of your enemies approach._

* * *

Arc twisted a coin between his fingers as a dozen young children watched, enraptured by the simple trick. He dropped it down his sleeve as he simultaneously flipped up his other hand to catch it. It was amateurish, really, but the children still gasped when he opened both fists with a small burst of fire.

"And it's gone!" he said, feigning shock. He focused his attention on one little girl. "Why do I keep losing it, do you think?" he asked.

She grinned, but buried her face in her friend's dress instead of answering.

"It's because you're magic!" one of the other kids announced proudly, like he was the smartest one there for thinking of it.

"Magic?" Arc asked, acting skeptical. "What makes you think that?"

"I heard things," the kid whispered. "Magic persons, they make things disappear, my mum said."

"Hm." Arc made a show of thinking hard. "Perhaps. You might be right. I should ask a local sorcerer, shouldn't I? Do you know where I might find one?"

"You can ask Miss Ruby!" one kid said, gesturing widely, "She knows _all about_ things like that!"

Ruby. He had somewhere to start, then.

"And where can I find this 'Ruby?'"

The kids fell silent again, looking at each other uncomfortably. Did they not know or did they not dare share that information?

"Try asking the King," one of them said, perking up. "I heard he knows."

Arc nodded his thanks. "I'll try that, then."

He slipped the coin in his sleeve back into his palm, standing. So this place had a king. That could either complicate things or make them much easier.

It was a really interesting place, Arc thought as he wove through the milling crowd, trying to remember where the others said they would be. They were trying to find a map without having to pay, thanks to the currency here being different, but so far nothing showed up. Even the magic show hadn't won anything from the children other than a lead for Arc to pursue in figuring out how magic on this land worked. Which, while something he wanted to pursue when he found the time, it wouldn't exactly help them in their current goal.

Luneth would probably just find a way to work the map into a show, needing one to make disappear. But a map was different from a coin. They'd have to use an actual spell, because Arc was no good at tricks.

A woman exclaimed in frustration as he pushed past and Arc shot an apology behind him before bumping into another body. He quickly ducked back out of sight as a burly warrior turned a disgruntled gaze to look for the offender. Arc kept moving, slipping through the more crowded sects. Attention made him nervous, and his attire clearly marked him as an outsider here. Thankfully, he was short enough that slipping through a crowd proved not too difficult.

He passed signs asking for workers, labor, patrons, wanted posters depicting a purple-haired woman with a mischievous smirk, and papers talking about products being sold. It struck him how similar the alphabet was to the one he'd grown up with. It took a matter of hours for him to be able to read it – albeit with a touch of difficulty – and make his way about. The words they used were also slightly different, but not enough to cause any major obstacles in communication. Contrasted with cities like Saronia where everything was nigh-illegible, given their penchant for swirling tips and cut-off sides.

It might just be that this place was more affected from what trade they may have had with Saronia either during or before the ten-year time freeze.

Arc almost smacked himself when he realized he hadn't thought to ask Alus about the east. Might have gained some valuable information.

 _Too late now_ , he reminded himself. _Any news?_

 _We can't transport you from so far away,_ the Crystals replied, voices overlapping as one. _But the connection is still strong._

 _Where are the others?_

 _Exploring. Keep going in this direction and you'll hit a wall. Look for the archway that takes you out of this section._

"Excuse me," he said, stopping a balding man - looked like a merchant. "I'm looking for somewhere I can find a map? Or perhaps exchange currency?"

"Currency?" the merchant repeated with a strange accent. He quirked an eyebrow at Arc. "Well, I guess it depends on the kind. Where are you from?"

"Saronia."

"Saronia?" The merchant balked. "I _thought_ you looked different! Not from these parts, then? I admit, it's been awhile since I've spoken with foreigners like you. Some ten years, I think. Perhaps you can finally sate my curiosity and tell me what happened there?"

Arc shifted under the man's sudden scrutiny. It would probably be a little strange to explain the Cloud if these people didn't already know about it. "We, um, lost contact due to, er, civil war, see…"

"Civil war? For ten years?" The merchant nodded solemnly. "That must be a hard memory to bring up. My condolences, son."

"It's been a little while since it ended." Arc hastily amended. "I barely remember it now."

"Little while? How old _are_ you, son?"

Arc changed the subject. "So, I can't buy a map, then?"

The man shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I don't have much to spare today. But, you might be able to haggle with that shop over there. Got a wide variety, they do. Might be willing to take foreign gilda. I'd give it a try, if I were you."

"Thanks," Arc said with a quick nod. "I'll go check it out."

The man disappeared into the crowd, and Arc sighed. If one merchant wouldn't take the coins, why would another in a different shop unless they were selling antiques? Perhaps if Arc and the others spent a couple of days here before setting out, they might stumble onto the buyer, but…

Arc shook his head. Either way, he had to go find the others.

* * *

Queens was a noisy, busy place. Ingus was never one for the crowds of Saronia or the larger gatherings in Sasune, but this city was worse by far, despite looking a lot smaller in geographical size. Bodies milled about and voices rang out in the din. It smelled unpleasant, like bad food and unwashed bodies, but that was often a given for big cities like this. Luneth and Refia didn't seem fazed, at least, but they were from the country where manure and such often permeated the farmland air. Ingus could barely tolerate it there already, and this was worse. The noise, though, appeared to bother Refia as she covered her ears to protect against some of the louder voices that blasted out sales and prices.

"That'll be a hundred gilda," the merchant said, preparing a stamp. Ingus started a little at the reminder, looking down at their gil. The coins didn't look remotely similar–the currency here was inlaid with images of the sun, moon, and other key, naturalistic elements while Ingus' country's coins depicted a long-since-lost civilization's castle and iconic symbols. "Problem?"

Ingus held up the proper coinage by his definition. "We don't have the same money," he said. "Just gil."

The merchant paused, examining Saronia's coins. "Hm. Never seen that kind before – where did you say you're from again?"

"The other side of the ocean," Luneth said impatiently. "Probably not anywhere you would recognize."

"The other…?" the merchant blinked.

"I'll handle this," a sweet voice said. Ingus darted his eyes to see a tall, curvaceous woman lean in, hands full of what must have been gilda. "What are they buying?"

The merchant's eyes widened considerably, and he jabbed a finger at the map. "J-just this, Miss Ruby. Honestly, I was considering giving it to them free, but if you insist…" The coins clattered on the counter – Ingus could swear it must been more than a hundred in value – and the woman took the map with an exaggerated smile.

"There you go," she said with a toothy grin, as if handing candy to an infant. "I wonder, have we met before?"

Ingus narrowed his eyes. The woman smelled dangerous, with too much perfume, too much exposed skin, and an exotic, purple shade of hair that fell into her eyes. And yet, as she spoke, there was something familiar to her. Ingus opened his mouth to speak and closed it again. _Where_ did he know her from? No one here had traveled to the other continent in at least ten years. It was impossible.

"No," Refia said shortly, stepping forward. "Thank you for your kindness, but we're actually running a little late. If you'll excuse us…" She made a move to push Ingus away, but the woman smiled again, getting the message. She turned gracefully on her heel with a quick farewell and disappeared back into the crowd as quickly as she'd materialized.

"Aye," the merchant whispered. "Listen close. That woman, she's trouble. Been in charge of the town when she's about, bullying people into doing her bidding. I hear she killed a man some time ago for not helping her, and blew up another's home for looking at her funny. And just this morning? She paid a visit to a shopkeeper by the name of Rando down by the docks, and no one's seen him since. I'd stay away if I were you."

"We'll be careful," Ingus said.

"Careful?" Arc asked, appearing out of nowhere. Refia started, hand shooting to her mouth.

"Where've _you_ been?" she yelled over the noise.

"Looking for a map," he said simply. "Haven't you been listening to the Crystals?"

"Easier said than done when I can't _hear anything_." She scowled, looking pointedly toward some of the louder merchants.

"Hey," Luneth said. "Maybe we should take care of that."

"The merchants?" Refia asked.

"No, the mean woman."

" _Mean woman_?" Refia hissed. "He just said she _killed_ someone!"

"It would be reckless to follow her," Ingus said. "We're foreigners here – if we invoke animosity in any way, it might cause problems for the future diplomatic relationship between our two lands."

"Diplomacy? You're worried about _diplomacy_?" Luneth repeated, gawking. The merchant was staring at them now, so Ingus pushed Luneth off to the side. Luneth protested as Refia followed, grabbing Arc's attention from a nearby book stand. "Okay," Luneth said, "sure, while you're worried about how smoothly meetings go for you in the future, I'm going to go save people's _lives_."

"What?" Arc asked, joining the conversation, "What are we doing?"

"Nothing," Luneth said at the same time that Ingus said, "Debating."

"Debating? About what?"

"About her," Ingus said, pointing to the purple-haired woman in the crowd. She was currently conversing with some guy wearing strange green clothes. "She might be dangerous."

Arc pursed his lips. "So?"

"Ugh," Luneth said. " _So_ , she might hurt someone else!"

"We don't know that," Refia said.

"But we also don't know that she won't…" Arc said slowly.

"Hey!" Luneth shouted. "Hey, lady!"

Ingus pinched the bridge of his nose as Luneth got her attention. The guy she'd been talking to had left already, it looked like. "What are you trying to pull, huh? Use us in some game of yours?"

"Luneth!" Refia hissed. "What are you doing?"

The woman quirked her head, absently touching a band that rested on her right wrist. Ingus started, grabbing Luneth even as the other boy's hands sparked with fire. "Looks like magic," Ingus warned. "That can't be just any wristband."

Refia looked at Ingus. "How would you know?"

"Sara has something similar."

Luneth promptly pulled his sword. "She wants a fight, then?"

"No, Luneth, that's not-!"

Luneth wrenched out of his grasp, brandishing his sword. The crowd parted around them, making room for a clear path between Luneth and the woman, some exclaiming in surprise and shock. A woman cried in alarm, shooing her children away. Young boys shoved to the front, eyes alight with excitement.

Ingus frowned, looking at the shining sword in Luneth's tensed hands. The woman's hand had left her wrist a while ago, but she twitched that wrist with the band and her feet shifted position.

"What do you want?" Luneth repeated.

"Nothing," she said airily. "I was just curious about something."

"Curious, my foot! Surrender yourself, witch!"

Luneth charged as the other three watched. The crowd cheered. Ingus smacked his forehead.

* * *

The woman's hand lit up with energy from her band and Luneth _charged_. His outfit changed to that of the ninja without him thinking. The change had become second nature a long time ago. The witch leaped in the air, away from him and Luneth stopped short, cursing. She landed again, gently, on the ground some feet away. The crowd opened up wider. _Not a flying target, then, but capable of becoming – however temporarily – airborne. That'll make things complicated…_

"Hey," the woman said, putting a hand on her hip, "What's all this for?" She looked relaxed, unworried, even as she charged a magic spell of some kind in the hand with the wristband.

Ice blasted the ground between them, creating a small barrier and Luneth looked to see Refia coming up closer, remains of an Arctic Wind glittering and dissipating from her hands. She was dressed in the robes of the Devout. She watched the other woman warily.

"We heard you hurt some people," she said carefully as Luneth fingered the hilt of a throwing knife. Despite the distance, the woman heard.

"Wait, what?" Her brows shot up in alarm. "Who, specifically?"

"Y-you admit it?" Refia asked, stuttering. "That easily?"

" _Who_?" the woman repeated. "Did Ingus-?"

Luneth threw the knife and it grazed the woman's arm. She yelped, sending her spell toward Refia, who countered it with another block of ice. The woman grabbed what was now an open wound, blood seeping into her sleeve. Why was she so focused on Ingus? Luneth took the opening, engaging with his sword. The woman dodged while deflecting another shot from Refia. Another magic source joined the fight – Arc was chanting, dressed as a Magus – and Ingus appeared at Luneth's side, spear swinging, red mage robes flowing.

The woman jumped again, kicking Ingus' spear into Luneth's swords, causing them both to stumble. Luneth fell to the ground, one sword knocked from his hand. He scrambled to pick it up again, but a blast of wind forced him down.

The wind died again and Luneth stood. He saw the woman distracted by more spells and he leaped in, aiming for her leg. She swung out, defying gravity in the way she spun _away_ from him and continued forward again, grappling Ingus and slithering an arm around his neck. Ingus dropped his spear, hands flying to pry away the witch's arm.

"Wait!" she said, kicking the spear away. "Just _listen_ -!"

An icy wind spell blasted them both, forcing her to release Ingus, who fell, choking for breath. Luneth saw Arc still standing, breathing hard, hands extended in front of him. Refia was charging a plain wind spell. Good. Given this woman's penchant for aerial combat, it would be easiest to keep her off-balance until Ingus or Luneth could get in a good blow.

The woman stumbled back to her feet. The bun she had kept her hair in was quickly unraveling, braids fraying loose.

"Okay," she snarled, "That's _it_."

She kicked into the air. Refia sent a wind spell at her, but instead of knocking her down, she somehow spun _with_ the magic, using it to boost herself higher into the air. Arc sent a blast right behind Refia's, and the woman merely used it to fly even _higher_ , her hands swirling around a searingly bright ball of summoned energy.

In the middle of a backflip, she let the energy loose. Aimed at Refia or Arc – Luneth wasn't sure which one, exactly. But he knew that they were recharging. And they weren't sturdy. And their ability to dodge was… not good.

He intercepted the shot. The world blurred.

 _Crack-BOOM!_

He blinked, trying to make sense of the colors swirling in front of his eyes, and the ringing in his ears, and it took a moment to realize that he was lying on the ground. There was very little pain, surprisingly. The spell had done almost no damage.

Luneth bounded back to his feet, to find that he had been thrown several yards away from the battleground. The crowd that had gathered to watch the fight was now scattering, running in all directions _away_ from the combat.

Probably related to the long scorch mark that had appeared on the paved road. It didn't look like anyone was hurt, at least. And the woman was just touching back down on the ground. Luneth ran forward–

And she raised her hands in surrender. Her hair and clothes were singed, and she looked _quite_ peeved.

"Luneth!" Arc said, holding his hat down against the wind, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Luneth answered, skidding to a stop beside him, "What…?"

"I'm sure," the woman said coolly, "This is all a _terrible_ misunderstanding."

* * *

As the dust settled, Refia noted that the street had completely cleared. Once Arc started throwing lightning bolts, their audience had – quite belatedly – taken it as a cue to evacuate.

"I've seen your picture on wanted posters," Refia said, before Luneth could open his mouth and promptly stick his foot in it again, "And you've already admitted that you hurt people. What, exactly, do you think we've _misunderstood?_ "

"One more point," Ingus said, "How do you know my name?"

The woman's expression was unreadable while Refia spoke, but her eyes widened at Ingus's question, "You… _are_ Ingus?"

She started to lower her hands, and Ingus quickly leveled his spear at her, "The other matter first, please."

"Actually," Luneth said, "I'm more interested in–"

Refia grabbed his jaw, "One thing at a time!"

"Mmf!"

The woman took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, "Well then, allow me to introduce myself – I'm Ruby, a genie, and a protector of this city for the past few hundred years. And sometimes, in the course of _protecting_ this place from mystical threats, I do things that the people of this city do not _understand_. Without the proper context, I appear to be a bully, a cheat, and even a murderer."

She looked at the sky, eyes half-lidded as if this were the most boring day of her life, "And I'll admit, after dealing with the simple minds of this city for centuries, I _do_ often use intimidation to get what I want. It's effective."

Ingus scoffed, "With that story, you could excuse anything! Do you truly expect us to believe you?"

"I think we should," Luneth said.

"Of _course_ you would."

"Actually," Refia said, slowly, "I'm inclined to agree."

She wasn't sure why. Ruby just seemed… too _proud_ to lie. Somehow.

Ingus was giving her a horrified look, however, and turned to Arc for, presumably, a voice of reason.

"Ingus is right," Arc said, "She's clearly known throughout the city as a menace. The crowd was _cheering_ for us."

Hmm, Arc did have a point–

"They're all wrong, then," Luneth said. He sounded annoyed, "She's not lying."

Ingus scowled, "Please, explain your line of reasoning."

" _She's not lying_."

Refia shook her head. Luneth was right. She couldn't explain it, but he was. Trying to imagine that Ruby was lying to them right now… it felt like trying to put a helmet on backwards. It was counterproductive. Ridiculous. _Wrong_.

Ruby smiled, as if at some joke that only she'd heard, "My. You're a motley crew, aren't you? Where are you from?"

"Across the ocean," Refia answered. Then, because she really didn't trust this instinct that was pushing her to believe the genie where she had no reason to do so, she said, "But if you're really a protector of this city, like you say you are, then what happened with Rando?"

Ruby froze, mouth tightening. Ingus took notice, and sent an I-told-you-so glare in Luneth's direction.

Luneth ignored him.

" _Rando_ ," Ruby spat, "Used an evil artifact to gain immortality. In so doing, he abandoned his fiance. She died in her grief, and recently arose as a vengeful spirit in the ship she died in, now a wreck on the harbor's floor. I reunited them. Now, they're both at peace, and _quite_ dead. The people of this town don't know the part Rando played in this, but they do know of the vengeful spirit – though I imagine it'll be a few days before they realize she's gone. If you want to know their view on this, just ask around about _La Saia_."

Well. Judging by Ruby's look of disgust, this was something of a touchy subject.

"Alright!" Luneth said, "Now that we've established that you're trustworthy–"

"We've done no such thing!" Ingus shouted.

"– Let's get onto the _interesting_ question! How do you know Ingus?"

"Ah," Ruby grimaced, "That's… complicated. Before I answer, may I ask who you three are?"

"Luneth!"

"I'm Refia."

"… Arc."

Ruby nodded, "And Ingus – where, precisely, are you from?"

Ingus just glared at her.

"Sasune," Luneth said.

"Luneth…" Ingus warned.

"But we were all dropped off as babies in our hometowns. We don't know where we were actually born."

" _Shatter all the Crystals,_ Luneth!"

Refia flinched back, "Wow, Ingus. Do you kiss Sara with that mouth?"

"Now is _not_ the time, Refia!" Ingus grabbed Luneth's shoulder, "A _word_ , please!"

Actually, speaking of the Crystals…

 _Can we trust her?_ Refia asked.

They didn't answer.

Ruby watched Ingus drag Luneth away, a curious expression on her face, "That's… hm. I… am actually not sure what to make of this."

"Please explain," Arc said.

"Well. I knew an Ingus, four hundred years ago. But not in this timeline, nor in the past few. In fact, right about when he disappeared, a great evil rose from the land where he'd once lived. And I… I can't _imagine_ how he may have arrived here, but I do know that there's something going wrong with this timeline. Changes to certain events in the past haven't affected the present the way they should. Perhaps these incidents are related."

 _She is mischievous,_ the Crystals finally whispered, _But she has helped us in the past._

"Could you be more specific?" Arc asked, "If these things are related, then there could be clues about how in the details. What changed in the past, and how was it supposed to change the present?"

Ruby ran a hand through her ruffled hair, "Oh, now _that_ is a _very_ long story. The authorities are sure to be here before I can even get started. I believe we should still have a couple of minutes, though, so while we're here – you say you came from across the ocean. What brought you all out so far?"

"We're looking for his family," Ingus snapped, walking back into the conversation and jabbing a finger at Arc, "At some point, they lived in a place called Norune Village. Have you heard of it?"

Beside Ingus, Luneth was looking insufferably smug. No doubt they'd heard what the Crystals said.

"More than heard of it," Ruby said, "I recently traveled with someone who lives there, although he's currently undertaking a journey to the west, where you came from. But I've been to Norune many times – and, oh, the map you purchased won't get you anywhere near it. It mostly details the western coast, while Norune is deep inland, and far to the east of here."

"Could you guide us there?" Luneth asked.

But Refia held up a hand before Ruby could answer, "Wait. What about Ingus? Or, the Ingus that you knew? Where was he from?"

Ruby pursed her lips, "Even farther east, and a ways south. He lived in the Raybrandt kingdom, which was built around a large river near the eastern coast. It fell from power about three hundred years ago, if my memory serves. Say, do you hear that?"

Refia cocked her head, "I don't–"

Oh, there it was. Footsteps pounding on the streets. Lots of them.

Luneth glanced at Ruby, "I think that's your cue to leave."

Ruby chuckled, "I don't think so, little fairy. This is bound to happen sooner or later – might as well get it over with quickly."

 _Wait wh–_

* * *

A hundred soldiers swarmed onto the street, coming from all directions, "Don't move!"

Most of the soldiers were armed with spears. Some had swords and bucklers, some bows and arrows, and a few carried odd contraptions that looked like long metal shafts. All of them were focused on the genie.

"Oh, hello," Luneth said cheerily, "We're popular, aren't we? Who's here for an autograph?"

"I don't think they're here for us," Arc muttered.

One man – apparently the captain – stepped out from the crowd, "Children. Step away from her, slowly."

 _Wonderful_ , Ingus thought, _THIS is going to be our first impression._

He raised his hands in a placating gesture, but didn't move, "We are the Warriors of Light from the western continent. We come in peace. We understand that this genie has a… an unfortunate reputation, but we believe that she is uniquely capable of aiding us in our quest here. For the sake of future diplomatic relations between our lands, we humbly request that you remand her into our custody."

"Heh," Ruby muttered, "It _is_ you."

"Arc," Luneth whispered, "What language is he speaking?"

The soldiers balked at him. Not a good sign.

"Sorry, _what_?" The captain asked, "How old are you?!"

"I do not believe my age is relevant."

"Do you have any idea who you're trying to protect, son? This woman is a witch. Just in the past day, she's murdered one man and committed arson against another!"

"Yeah!" A large man in a white suit shouted, "She tried to kill me, I swear!"

"Oh, please," Ruby said, "You know as well as anyone that if I wanted you dead, you'd have been on the harbor floor years ago."

"Back off, King," the captain growled, then turned back to Ingus, "You won't be taking her anywhere. She's been a scourge to this city for longer than anyone can remember. Now, she'll finally face justice."

"But she's innocent!" Luneth said, stepping forward, "She's been protecting you this whole time, you just can't see it!"

The air seemed to freeze. Ingus desperately wished he could just take Luneth's voice and lock it up in the tallest floor of the Crystal Tower, never to be heard again. It would solve _so many problems._

"I see," the captain said. His voice was like ice, "Stand down, boy. We don't want to hurt you."

"You're going to be okay?" Ingus quietly asked Ruby.

"Please. This is _nothing_."

"Very well," Ingus dropped his spear, and gave his companions – particularly Luneth – a pointed look, "We have no wish to fight."

At a gesture from the captain, one of the armed men pulled Ingus aside, taking out a pair of iron manacles.

"No!" Refia shouted. "Ingus, what are you doing?!"

"It's their land, Refia. We came here, and by so doing, we agreed to follow their laws." The manacles latched onto his wrists and the soldier tightened them until Ingus couldn't move his hands an inch. "This way, we're in a better position to offer justice. You'll want witnesses, I assume?" He directed his attention to the sheriff."

"But we're innocent!" Luneth insisted. "This is wrong!"

"We're not going to do anything to you," the sheriff said. "I promise, by my word as a Macho. We'll do nothing that resembles injustice."

"Even to me?" Ruby asked. "Because it sounds like you're going to kill me without a fair trial, and that's criminal, sheriff."

"Not without a trial, miss. Just without any inhibitions against the truth."

"So I'll be fine." She gave him a confident smile. "Won't I?"

"If it's true you're innocent," he said. "But I honestly doubt it will come to that. Perhaps you'll give me the name of the 'real killer?'"

"That's _enough!_ " Luneth shouted. Ingus snapped his gaze to see fire crackle in a blast of magic that dispersed as quickly as it materialized. "You're _all corrupt_! Let Ingus go!" Ingus strained against the restraints, instincts screaming to stop Luneth. How could he keep this up? He was going to get them all killed!

"I said, _let him go!_ " Luneth snapped, pulling out his sword.

Ingus' attempts were in vain as the throng of armed forces pushed him away and forced him to walk out. Chaos clamored behind them as magic sizzled and metal rang against metal. Ingus wondered if he should have waited, maybe even fought alongside the guard of this city for a moment to establish he wasn't against them. If he was a little more neutral, unbiased, he could maybe bridge the gap between the east and the west, even in such a small-scale matter. Even the slightest gesture...

But it was what it was: he was in chains and being marched away from the scene with surprising speed. He almost struggled to keep up with the soldiers, no thanks to their long limbs that were gifted them by their five to ten years on him. It was a good thing they didn't also bind his ankles as was common custom in the west. That would have just been humiliating.

Then again, if he were in Sasune, he never would have gotten into this mess. Or if he wasn't bound to the others, period. Perhaps if he'd spent longer than a few days with Luneth in Sasune, they would shortly arrest Ingus for murder, no matter how unjustified.

 _I might need your help_ , Ingus thought.

 _Of course. We'll do what we can._

* * *

 _Smooth_ , Ingus thought snidely to himself, straining against the cuffs on his hands. _Sara would be impressed._

The dungeon wasn't as bad as it could have been. Those found in Sasune were far smaller, danker, and dirtier. These things were large and clean, and offered a full view of the sheriff's office, so there was something to look at, at least. Outside, the city glowed with light – an unnaturally yellow light that fogged the air and clung to the sky.

It was better to surrender, Ingus reminded himself, relaxing his arms. Resisting would only sour the relationship they had with this new land, and eventually Saronia would have to step up as the representative of the western continent and forge an alliance. And the highest-esteemed warriors from the west being branded as dangerous criminals certainly wasn't going to make things more manageable for King Alus.

This way, at least, they would just be plain criminals.

Ingus fell against the wall, shutting his eyes against a forming headache. It was braver to accept his imprisonment, wasn't it? Resisting would have been reckless, dangerous. It would have gotten people hurt. Even if it did prove he was "stronger." He was proving that better here, not out there, wherever the others were, even if Luneth was probably laughing at him.

But Luneth's opinion didn't matter. No, Ingus was a captain. A Warrior of the Light, protector of the earth, Light of Determination – whatever that last one meant. He had more important things to focus on, things that weren't the result of pointless rivalries. Never mind the fact that Luneth would _win_ if Ingus let him distract him.

Sara. Instead, he could think about Sara, for a little bit...

The air turned slightly stale. Ingus wrinkled his nose, twitching his wrists, again fighting that instinct to break free, even as his lungs restricted. Where did the feeling come from?

"Hello," a strange voice greeted him. Ingus snapped his eyes away from the accursed chains, hunting down the source. A shadowed figure entered his vision, walking slowly and deliberately forward. "Looking cozy there, I see. Bit of a change, isn't it? From your comfort in Sasune's castle."

Ingus didn't dignify that with a response. Whoever this man was, he didn't look like he belonged with with the rabble outside. He wore a long coat, emblazoned with a symbol on the shoulder that Ingus didn't recognize. It appeared to be made of tough material, and was tan in color, plain. A uniform, but not one that matched with that of the army in this city.

"No large walls," the man said, "no legion of subordinates to protect you - not as if you need protection, of course. I know you could break right out of those chains, if you wanted. Still, it must be quite the adjustment."

Ingus narrowed his eyes. How did this man know about him? Was he like the genie, knowing Ingus from some different time?

"Ah. You don't recognize me, I see," the man said. He stood tall, probably a good two feet taller than Ingus. "It hasn't been that long, you know. But then, I suppose I _have_ gone through a few changes since we last spoke, a year ago."

Ingus remained silent, watching the man.

He moved a little too stiffly, but that could just be explained with simple military experience. He was likely in charge of other soldiers, and Ingus knew the importance of learning to restrain yourself when in front of your trainees. But when could they have met? Ingus narrowed his eyes. Was he a copy?

No… copies were more twisted. They never looked remotely human, and this man was definitely flesh and blood.

"As you've changed, actually," the man said, leaning in. His eyes, originally dark brown, turned red, pupils slitting. "You've grown, Ingus. The worlds of light and darkness are in balance once again, and you're all set for a nice, long, cozy life. Until, of course, the time comes for you to go to sleep, and await the day a new set of Warriors of Darkness come seeking your help, to save their world from my flood of light. At which point, you will meet the same end as the Warriors _you_ summoned to aid you."

Ingus froze, finally recognizing that taste of _dark_ in his mouth. That was why the atmosphere had changed ever so slightly. "The Cloud of Darkness," he hissed. His heart pounded even as he said it. He couldn't fight it, not like this, not by himself. He wished he had his spear. Instead, he started heating his manacles slowly, hands warmed with an inner fire.

"There it is," the man said, leaning away again. "Around and around we go. But eventually, no matter what you try, this world _will_ take its rightful place in the Void, Crystals and all. Not much point in worrying for yourselves, is there?"

"It won't return to the void," Ingus said. Perhaps arguing was risky, but he had to stall for time and get his manacles off. Better to make the thing angry then let it enact whatever it was planning.

The Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Amusing. You humans keep insisting that you can make a difference, but how long will it be until you get the picture? _We_ ," he said, raising a weapon like what the soldiers from before had wielded, with the metal plating. The corners of the man's mouth tugged up in a confident, sneering smile. " _Can't_. _Die._ "

 _Bang!_

The air seemed to shatter, and something hard slammed Ingus' head against the wall. His ears rang and his head swam and _hurt_ , but he felt like he was still intact. Moving by instinct, Ingus raised his hands to grab his head, but failed, manacles still holding them together. He could feel the light of the Crystals inside him, rushing to fill in where the blow would have taken Ingus' health. If he didn't have their protection, he suspected he would have died with that shot.

Ingus managed to look up into the man's eyes despite the pain pounding in his head and the noise ringing in his ears. Those eyes changed back to normal. "It left again," the man said. His voice sounded different now. Less… clear. Garbled. "Interesting. I suppose you're not that big a threat, if he's so quick to leave me to finish you off."

Smoke wafted from the end of the tube. "Oi," Ingus managed. Or, thought he managed. He could barely hear his own voice.

"Your world's been frozen for ten years," the man said, noting Ingus' confusion. "You missed a couple of things."

 _Not frozen,_ he thought, distracted. _Only the lower world was frozen. We saved it before... By the Crystals, that hurt._

The weapon blasted again. Once, twice-

Darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

" _You're Renee's son alright."_ – Laura

Refia dashed inside the building, the soul of the ninja softening her footsteps such that she could barely feel the stone underneath her. Her legs moved almost of their own accord, fueled by adrenaline and instinct, and a sense of urgency that she wasn't entirely sure was her own.

The crystals pushed her forward, toward this one building, where she was pretty sure Ingus had been taken. She wasn't sure where Luneth and Arc were – she'd split up from them the moment she felt a surge of _alarm_ from the crystals – but they were together, and they were with Ruby. So they should be okay.

Refia could still feel Ingus on the link, just faintly. So he was still alive. But she didn't know how long that would last.

Refia scoffed when she saw the inside of the "prison." Unless they had another place to keep the rest of the criminals, she worried for this city's safety. They only had two cells inside this place, both within clear sight of the sheriff's desk.

"Ingus?" Refia whispered, peeking in.

A crumpled form laid against the wall in the corner of the left cell, twisted into a rather unnatural position. Ingus laid facing her, limbs splayed and eyes closed. She couldn't tell if he was breathing.

Refia slipped a phoenix down from her pocket and blew it his way through the bars. It floated toward him, sucked in by the Crystal energy that had been depleted. It begged for the strength offered by the down, absorbing it like a dry rag run dropped into a puddle of water.

A faint light glowed around Ingus, and Refia turned black mage. She focused a firaga to the iron bars, heating them to a fiery red. Her clothes faded back to that of the ninja and she hit the bars with a mythril axe. Metal exploded, flying outward. Ingus, now sort of conscious, barely flinched at the debris spraying about him. A couple of chunks nicked his exposed skin, but he didn't even seem to notice.

Refia jumped in, offering her hand and shoving the axe into its spot at her back. "Come on!" she hissed. "They'll be here any moment."

"Loud bang," Ingus managed. "Tubes and staves. The soldiers wielding."

Great. Whoever did this must have hit him hard even after the Crystal's energy was drained. Ingus' face was covered in blood, and Refia quickly scrubbed away the worst of it to try and find where it had come from.

His forehead was covered in fresh scar tissue.

 _Shatter all the crystals._

She grabbed him and guided his arms to rest against her shoulders as she hefted him to his feet.

Ingus was a lot heavier than he looked, Refia noted with a grunt. He was so inconsiderate, working out all the time. Sure, it was good for his health, but where did that leave the poor souls that had to carry him places? He was a captain, after all. Surely he got injured and had to be rushed off to a medic often enough. Did he ever think about that?

It had grown quieter outside. That was bad for them, given it would be harder to sneak away, and she couldn't make out any sign of Luneth or Arc, or even Ruby. Where had they gone? Refia trudged forward while Ingus managed some steps in rhythm with hers.

The air was still thick with smoke from their conflict with the authorities. The ground here was drier than what Refia had grown used to on the Floating Continent and World Below, and it proved even worse in these condition as all that dust took to the air.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" The sheriff from before, now singed in various places, stopped them a stone's throw from the building. "Breaking him out now, are you?"

Uh oh. That guy was probably the one who'd done this to Ingus. Refia didn't want to jostle her friend, but she couldn't fight while supporting him, and sticking around to _roast_ this scumbag was just asking for trouble.

So she lifted Ingus into both arms - mentally thanking her adoptive father for all those frustrating years of blacksmith training - and broke into a run, barely pausing to shout back, "When I come back, _you'll pay for this!_ "

 _Quick. Get Luneth and Arc. We're leaving._

 _Refia found Ingus. Arc, Luneth, bring Ruby and find her…_

"I'm heading west. Meet me in the middle of the city, by the canal. I hope one of them has a map, because I'm not staying to find one."

 _By the canal. She doesn't have a map._

"And tell Luneth not to get sassy about it. I don't need any more unpleasantness today."

 _Ruby has one, if you remember._

"A what?"

 _The map from before. She says that it'll make everything "smoother." Honestly, we don't understand much of the slang she's using right now – for an immortal being, she's surprisingly… how shall we say… human._

* * *

Monica fiddled with the charm resting safely in her pocket. It helped her feel a little more at ease, despite the bodies milling about her. Crowds had always made her nervous, given Father's warnings and training to help her avoid assassinations. And now they moved in the midst of a throng that pushed about, shoving them aside and generally getting in the way.

 _Don't get mixed up in a crowd_ , Father once said. _You never know who might get a little too close with a dagger._

 _Easier said than done_ , Monica thought, trying to get free, to find a spot where she could think in peace. But it was in vain as shoulders bumped and feet jostled. Anytime she felt like she started to approach open air, another stream of people appeared, cutting her off.

Goro's friend, as it turned out, was someone that Monica knew in her own time - a genie by the name of Ruby. She'd been an advisor to Monica's father, and sometimes something like the mother that Monica never had. At least, not that she could remember.

It was really surreal to see her again, more than a hundred years in the past, and looking not a bit different. Of course, Monica had known the genie was old, but she hadn't seen her anywhere in Max's time, so she'd kind of figured Ruby couldn't be _that_ old.

Turned out, Monica had no idea how old Ruby was. And she couldn't exactly _ask,_ and she supposed it didn't really _matter_ , but…

"Monica?" Max said, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine."

Ruby didn't know about this Dark Genie thing being nearby, apparently, but said she'd look into it. They could probably meet with her again later today, after Monica had gotten her wits back together.

"Over here," Goro said, almost shouting over the din. "The time is too weird for anyone to want to eat right now. Should allow us a little quiet if we pick out a spot at that place."

Monica flinched. _Food?_

Father was very meticulous about taste-testing in the kitchen. He had to see every meal check in person, something Ruby told her wasn't normal for kings. Most were satisfied simply with the knowledge that it was being tested in the kitchen. Most didn't bother double-checking. It got to to be too troublesome after a while.

This particular restaurant was a little small, and Goro was right. Apparently it wasn't the most popular time to eat, given there were two other people in the building besides the chef himself, and it was big enough to hold at least a couple dozen.

Goro ordered them some food, but Monica wasn't particularly hungry. Instead she gripped the charm tighter in her palm. It was tear-shaped, so one end digged into her skin a little bit, but the pain was admittedly a little welcome. It distracted her from the memory for a moment. From the reminder that she was if she'd just been a little stronger, a little faster...

"Monica?"

She started. Max was staring at her, concern written on his face. "It's nothing," she said. "Just trying to figure where to go from here."

Goro nodded. "It's not good," he said. "The Genie could be anywhere, hiding as anyone. And this place is a lot busier than when I last visited. Where did you say you got your information from?"

Monica exchanged a glance with Max. "It's… difficult to say."

"Don't trust me with the information?"

"It's not that," Monica said, before amending, "Well, not entirely. It was just a little weird."

"We talked to a knight," Max said. "In a large tower. He said the power of the Genie surfaced in Queens."

Goro scoffed. "But that could mean a few things. One, that any one person in Queens, this city packed fuller than a can of eels, could be him. Two, that it's already left."

"What do you want from us?" Monica asked, snapping a little. "It's not like we can just call him again."

"Yeah," Max said. "Even if we somehow had his number, I think it's a little beyond this time's technology anyhow."

Goro gave him a strange look.

"What?" Max said. "Oh, never mind."

"If you're not willing to hunt him down with us," Monica said, "We can do it ourselves."

"Nah," Goro said. "I'm still in this. Ain't gonna get rid of me that easily! I'm still gonna tell Toan I did all his work for him."

"Your order," the waitress said, carrying a huge pile of steamed gummies and nilers. Monica balked. There was _nothing_ else on the plate but slimy, gray fish.

"Want some?" Goro asked, prepping a fork and knife. "Best stuff you'll find in the world."

"I'll try it!" Max said, grabbing a plate.

Monica shook her head. "Is there someone we can talk to, someone that might believe us if we tried to explain the time travel and all?"

Goro shook his head as he took a bite. "Nope. You're gonna have to come up with a story of some kind. That's the worst part. People here, they're not very quick to help. In fact, they're more likely to ask favors themselves. Don't expect a lot of coddling."

"We didn't come to be coddled," Monica said. "I think we can handle it."

"Are there police in this town?" Max asked, chewing quietly. "Law enforcement of some kind?"

Goro scoffed, mouth full. He took a moment to swallow. "Of a sort. I honestly wouldn't go so far as to call them 'enforcement.' If you ask me, they're more like a henpecking grandmother, but I guess they could be willing to listen. We could narrow our search by a little bit."

"Great," Monica said. She would have stood, if the other two weren't still busy stuffing themselves. With a sigh, she picked up a fork and got to work. The sooner it was gone, the sooner they could leave.

* * *

Teleportation wasn't something Arc ever really got used to. Even when the Crystals did it, he always felt a little ill, watching his surroundings be instantly replaced with a completely different view. Despite the comfort of the Crystal's light, there was something not quite right with the sensation.

Without the Crystal's light, it was downright nauseating.

When the glow of the strange map faded, they found themselves in a small town. Arc swayed, summoning his staff for support. Small houses dotted valley, square-ish in shape and full of creaking windmills. He recognized it from the description in his father's journal.

Norune.

The sun hung low on the horizon when they appeared at the gate, and most of the inhabitants were winding down for the day. A flute played somewhere, its notes soft and nostalgic, drifting lazily on the evening breeze. Trees and houses were scattered across the valley, mingled with those windmills. A river snaked along the ground, flowing lazily and gently.

Silently, Arc thanked the Crystals for Ruby getting her hands on such a convenient transportation device. It would certainly make things easier in the long run, even if it left his stomach feeling like someone had pummeled him there.

Arc froze. At the head of the village, a large, round, yellow ship lay half-buried in the earth, its propellers half-gone and its wood cracked and peeling. "Hey," Arc said, tugging on Luneth's sleeve. "Doesn't that look a lot like the _Nautilus?_ "

Luneth paused briefly and shrugged. "Maybe a little. Why?"

Was there a time when the Ancients lived on this continent? Arc made a mental note to look into that when he got back to Saronia.

"Toan?" a woman asked, approaching the party. She had a large frame and thick, black hair, wrapped in a bun. She looked haggard - was she a farmer, like most here according to Aga's journal? "Did you grow out your hair?" she asked.

Toan. This was his village. These people knew him. It was a strange feeling, now knowing for certain that Toan _did_ exist. And it looked like he was alive and well, too. "No," Arc said, gesturing toward Ingus, who was being supported by Refia and Luneth. "Our friend, we were hoping…"

"You sound just like him," she said suspiciously, wringing her fingers. "Are you new to Norune?" she asked, inspecting Ingus.

Arc nodded. "I actually came looking for Toan, originally. I, uh, heard he had something to talk to me about?" It was the least strange thing he could think to say.

"Well," the woman said, smiling reassuringly, "I can't remember what pulled him away this time. I don't know how long it will take, but he always winds up back here, no matter how upset he is. If you give it time and patience, I'm sure he'll be back within a few weeks. What happened to this one? Gun shot?"

"Yeah," Ruby said. "More than one, it sounds like. Do you have bandages and anesthetic?"

"Oh, dear," the black-haired woman said. "Okay. I can make some space. What's your name, young man?"

"Ingus," Luneth said as Ingus struggled to straighten. "Also known as 'twit' or 'snobby brat' in some parts. You may have heard of him. Me, I'm Luneth."

Ingus made to swat Luneth in the back of the head, but Refia gripped his arm tighter, keeping him upright. "Refia," she said.

"Arc."

The woman's smile dropped and her hands froze. "I knew it," she muttered under her breath.

Arc hesitated. "I'm sorry," he said, "I-"

He cut off as the woman grabbed him in a bear hug, squeezing him close. His oxygen cut off and he gasped for breath. What warranted _this_ reaction?

"Renee!" the woman shouted. Arc choked as she released him. She then promptly lifted him into her arms. "Renee, get out here, quick! What have you been eating, child? Worms? There's not a lick of meat on your poor bones!"

The light was fading fast, and the music had stopped a long time ago. Arc could only wait, face warm, as the woman ran with him in her arms, as if he were an aged and fragile tome. "He's here! He's back!" she shouted.

What about Ingus? He was bleeding out over there!

"Who's back – Toan?" another voice called in reply.

"No, no! His brother! Arc! It's Arc!"

"Arc?!" a young voice cried in disbelief. "Who's _Arc_? Did he replace Toan?"

"He's WHAT?!" a deep voice rumbled.

Arc couldn't make out much from his position, but he saw several heads peek out of windows and doorways.

The woman ascended stairs much faster than Arc would have thought her capable of doing and next thing he knew, he was planted on the ground again, the world spinning in his eyes. He slipped one foot to the side and that gained him some stability. He planted his staff in the ground to further still himself. He stopped short when he saw the woman now facing him.

She stood, frozen to the spot, one hand on the doorknob, another on the frame. She stared down at him, eyes wide. She was quite pretty, wearing a simple worker's dress themed white and orange. She looked... warm, with her hair kept in a loose band and her clothes almost glowing in that hue of orange.

He recognized her face, somewhere in his subconscious.

"Renee-… I mean, Mother?" Arc managed, hastening to straighten out his hair a touch. His face was still a mess from that scuffle the other day, too. This was _not_ going the way he planned. Renee opened her mouth to respond-

"ARRRRRRC!" a deep man's voice shouted before the world tipped again and the air was knocked from Arc's lungs. Huge, muscular arms lifted him off the ground again and he let out a small cry of alarm. "What did ya _think you were doing_! Made us think you were _dead,_ you did!"

"Macho!" another woman's voice said. "Let him talk to his mom! It's been ten years for her as well!"

"Ah, right. Sorry." The arms let him go again and Arc took a moment to stabilize himself. This time, Renee stepped forward. She didn't grab him like everyone else did.

"It's you?" she whispered, voice hoarse.

"I-I think so."

She stared at him. "It's all the same. This shouldn't be possible, it shouldn't be real…"

She wrapped him in a hug, then. It wasn't a death-grip this time. There was a sense of desperation in the way she held him, but it didn't restrict his lungs. "You're home," she said. "You're alive. By Dran, I don't know how, but you're _here_. How did you find us?" She pulled away again.

"Father's journal," Arc said, holding out the battered, burnt book. "I traced his steps."

"How?" she asked. "Did he give it to you?"

Arc shook his head. "Not directly. I was found on a ship, with three other kids. The man who saved me, also found this. Aga – Dad, he was nowhere near. I don't know if he died in the crash or-"

"Never mind," Renee said quickly. "It's past. You're home."

"Yes, and we need help." Arc gestured to the others, who'd somehow made their way into the pressing crowd. He'd almost forgotten. "Our friend, he was shot. He needs to rest, safe, and we don't have anywhere else to go."

"Are you hungry?" a voice called from behind. "I make a mean stew, I'll have you know!"

"We would love that, Gaffer," Renee said. "But it sounds like bandages might be more important-"

"I can provide cheese," another, quieter voice added.

"Thanks, Claude, but-"

"I'll get some fish going!"

"I'll handle the pig!"

"Fruits!"

"Well," Renee said, smiling a little. "It looks like you'll have a feast tonight, whether you want one or not."

"I want one!" Luneth cheered, dropping Ingus. Refia grunted with the sudden weight.

With that and a cry akin to a battle shout, most of the villagers ran away, presumably to prepare said foods. Those that remained were Arc's friends, Ruby, a couple of dark-skinned, well-built men and a little girl in a short dress. "I am kind of hungry, I guess," Arc said.

"I have a question!" the small girl said.

Renee sighed. "What is it, Gina?"

"Who is he?" the girl asked, pointing at Arc. "Did Toan pick up a brother while he was gone? Can he get me one too?" She pointed at Luneth, "Like him?"

* * *

Luneth watched the festivities from a distance, the silhouettes outlined by the blazing fire.

He dug his fingers into his bare palms. His gloves were gone, placed together with his sweaters on a shelf in Arc's family's home. In their place, he wore a shirt that was too orange. It was thin, making the heat slightly more bearable, but it was strange and Luneth didn't like it.

It was nice at first, the food and dancing. Everyone was so happy, so glad to have Arc back. Luneth was glad for him. At first. Luneth was the one to suggest leaving in the first place, but now he found himself regretting it a little bit as he watched how easily the villagers accepted Arc into their ranks. Arc had a place, now. He had a home, living family, living friends from his birth. Everyone was plenty friendly with Luneth and the others, but they were just so _fixated_ on _Arc_.

It looked like Luneth would just be replaced and left to return alone to the elders in Ur, now. Crystals, how was he supposed to explain that to Nina and Topapa? Luneth and Arc told them that they were going on an adventure, but didn't say anything about the journal. Arc didn't want to worry them with the details, didn't want them to think that they were searching out his biological parents to replace his foster parents.

And, of course, they wouldn't get as mad if they thought this was about the end of the world.

Luneth frowned. He didn't want to go home alone.

Renee and Arc sat together at the buffet table, awkward in a sickeningly adorable way. Arc laughed at something Renee said and Luneth abruptly stood, finding himself desperate to not have to watch this anymore. It was like Ruby and Ingus. Why did everyone seem to have such connections to Luneth's friends even though they'd barely met? The orphans, the Warriors of Light, they had titles for a reason! They were a crew, their own family! They couldn't have people shoving their way in and driving them apart like this! It wasn't fair!

Luneth sneaked by the singing and shouting villagers as they all fought for chances to talk about what they remembered of Arc as a baby. Refia and Ruby looked to be enjoying themselves as well, somehow. One of the dark-skinned men leaned in close to Ruby, obviously flirting with her even though she barely seemed to notice. Luneth fumed, continuing on toward Renee's home.

The door opened to darkness. Soft breathing could be heard at the end of the room where they had stashed Ingus for the duration of their party.

Luneth grumbled as he took a spot on a chair near Ingus' bed. His gaze lingered over Ingus' sleeping form.

How could everyone forget the fact that there was a murderous monster out there that hurt Ingus like this? And how were they going to fight back and get the revenge that Ingus deserved if they kept partying all night?

Luneth sat in the dark, seeing the outlines as allowed by the dim illumination cast by the bonfires outside the house. The house was mind-numbingly normal, with a basin built into a table on one side, the dining table where Luneth was sitting, in the center with a few items scattered on top, and a half-way full book shelf shoved against one wall. What did these people even do in their spare time? Renee had said her other son was still alive, but Luneth wondered in that moment if he even wanted to know how dull Arc's "real" brother was. Probably just a brainless farmer that couldn't think past the growing rate of his crops. Just like the rest of Ur.

 _Good to know this trip was so productive._

Ingus shifted in his sleep, muttering incoherently. The map that Ruby had used to take them here lay, forgotten, before Luneth on the table.

An idea came to mind.

 _Fine_ , Luneth thought, snatching the wrinkled paper in his hands. If Arc and the others wanted to waste their time here, let them. Luneth was going to go ensure that justice landed its sword in the right set of lungs.

It took a moment in the dark of night to make out Queens on the map, but when Luneth found it, he pointed like Ruby did. It didn't do anything.

Luneth blinked. He waved his finger over it a little. Still nothing. He frowned, shaking the paper a little. Then he jabbed his finger into the spot again, and the room faded to white before his eyes.

* * *

"He's gone!"

Arc and Renee – _Mother_ , he corrected himself – looked up at Refia, who stood puffing beside them. "Who?" Arc asked.

"Luneth!" Refia said. "I looked everywhere, but the Crystals said he went to Queens!"

They'd been in Norune for just a few hours. Luneth was hard to keep in one place, but even for him that was sudden. Arc never would have expected him to take off so soon. He would have thought Luneth would prefer to spend some time here and get to know the place a little before he felt the need to leave. And it especially wasn't like him to leave the others without a word.

"He took the map," Ruby said, appearing beside Refia. She looked angry. "I _needed_ that."

"What do they say? How long ago?" Arc asked, standing. Renee stood with him. "Why would he do that? And now, of all times?"

"He left in search of Ingus' would-be killer," Refia said. "And he took the map. That's all he would tell them. That was about an hour ago."

The map that Ruby had used to transport them across the country. Without that, any kind of travel would take days. And it also meant that Luneth could be anywhere this side of the world with a simple pointing of his finger. It could take ages for him to get back, and if he was in such a state that he would disappear in the middle of the feast, then they probably wouldn't be hearing much about him from the Crystals. He would be too emotional to stop and speak with them.

Arc hesitated, reaching for his satchel. Luneth certainly had the drive to do it, but he also wasn't invincible. He _could_ get himself killed.

"He's been kind of quiet since we got here," Refia said. "I should have seen it, should have known to check on him, but I just assumed he fell asleep in a tree outside."

"Yeah," Arc said, turning to Renee. "He does that sometimes. It's not strange when you're used to it."

Renee nodded, understanding. "Of course he does."

"Whatever," Ruby snapped. "There's a friend of mine who just arrived in Queens, along with two new friends of his own. I'll bet they're hunting the same thing that Luneth is, so I wouldn't worry about him too much. If the rest of you are set here, I'm going to be heading out east - there are a couple of places I know of that may hold answers regarding the moons, and our little time-displaced friend."

"You're leaving already?" Arc asked.

Ruby nodded, pulling up another chair. She sat down with a sigh. "Things are more complicated without the map - I hope you tell your friend that when you see him again - but I've still got things I need to do. I was never planning to come back with you, but I wanted to be sure that Ingus wasn't going to drop dead on my watch."

"What are you going to do?" Refia asked.

Ruby shrugged. "Like I said, I'm going to get some answers. I'm sure you want them too, but now you'll have to be patient. It's going to be at least a week before I get back."

"We should go with you," Arc said.

"What?" Refia looked between them. The bonfire flared up, matching her surprise, and some villagers exclaimed in surprise and delight. "I thought you didn't trust her?"

Arc shook his head. "If she was going to betray us, she would have done it by now. I hate to say it, but you were right, Refia. And I think we owe it to Ruby to help her."

The bonfire went down again. Ruby snorted. "You think I need help?"

"No," Arc said. "But I'm sure you would appreciate it all the same."

"Wait," Renee cut in. "Are you all leaving already? Your friend is no condition to travel!"

"She's right," Ruby said. "And I can't wait for him to recover. I can give you the night to rest, but if you're not ready to leave in the morning, then I go alone."

Arc and Refia exchanged glances. "If just one goes," Refia said slowly, "We'll get the information faster. Through the Crystals, we can stay in touch."

"Point," Arc said. "Perhaps I should go."

"Arc," Refia said. "You just found your childhood home. There's no reason you should leave now. Stay, enjoy it. We'll be back sooner than you can blink."

Arc frowned. What if they were going to visit some nomadic tribe? Peruse grand libraries? "You'll tell me everything you find?"

Refia nodded. "Of course." She turned to Ruby. "Do we leave immediately?"

Ruby shook her head. "You need to sleep. I'll wake you at daybreak. Make sure you have everything ready before then."

"Arc," Renee said slowly as the two retreated. "What are you doing, traveling with a woman like her?"

"Ruby?" Arc stammered, "I-it's not like I _chose_ her, Mother. She just kind of… tagged along."


	10. Chapter 10

" _I was so scared then, but in a way it was really fun. I mean, every boring day had been just the same for me. But this, this was the beginning of a real adventure!" -_ Max

Arc fingered a book on the shelf, leaving a trail in the dust. "You don't use these at _all_?" he asked, incredulous. How could someone have such aged books and _never_ use them? It was like shoving a beautiful tapestry into the basement because it didn't keep anything warm.

Hag shook her wizened head. "My eyes have not weathered the years well, so I don't read so much anymore."

"Can I?"

"Please! I'd hate to see them rot for the rest of time on those shelves. Take them all, if you want. Keep them. It would give me great joy to know they've found a better home."

Arc stared. Was she _serious_? "... Keep them?"

"Yes, yes! Take them away. They've actually grown to be a bit of a bother, were I to be perfectly frank."

Arc couldn't believe his ears. He gingerly removed one volume and flipped through a couple of pages. The paper was weathered and worn, discolored with age, and smelling like any old book did. Arc breathed in, savoring the sensation. If Valhalla or some such place existed, then surely this was what it would be like. He imagined libraries full of these.

"Or," Hag said, "I suppose you could treat them to a picnic by candlelight instead. I've got some incense hidden behind those boxes, you know."

Arc blushed, snapping the book closed. "Uh, thanks." Arc cast mini and slipped them into his bag. "I'll be in the windmill if anyone needs me."

"Good choice. Dran's magic is something special, isn't it?"

"That and the quiet." He honestly wasn't sure how much he believed in the magic of this village's guardian. Perhaps he would find time to talk to him.

As Arc approached, the whole building creaked with the movement of the windmill blades, lit by the warm light of what had to be enchanted torches. No one should trust anything else inside a place with so much old wood.

It was warm inside despite the early spring temperatures, which didn't make sense to Arc. There wasn't a fireplace. Unless that was yet another enchantment, it was yet one more reason that this place was _different_. He could almost smell the magical residue that infused the walls of this place – reminiscent of fae territory. He definitely had to at least find out who this Dran was.

Resolving himself, Arc took a breath and opened his satchel. With a wave, the books lifted up and out, the natural tree parts within answering his command to come closer. He canceled the mini enchantment and pushed just slightly against their descent. They floated to the ground with soft thumps.

Next he pulled out a long roll of paper that the mayor had lent him. It was a little smaller than he was hoping, but it would get the job done.

He pulled out the journal, setting them on top of a crate in plain sight and stacked the books next to those. The journals would likely provide the majority of the information he needed. First, he needed a general map. He had acquired one from Hag, who had one in her storage that she said some young suitor had given her, but it seemed a little off. So he referenced that with Aga's journal.

Arc took the charcoal in his hands and sketched out a rough diagram of what the natives called "Blue Terra." He had very scarce information about the far north and south, but he got a good idea of what the main land looked like, so he started with a vague outline of Norune and the surrounding country. The farmland had stretched to the river that divided most of it from the forest area. "Matataki?" Arc whispered to himself. "Is that the name?"

The desert and coast were harder. He hadn't just spent a few days wandering those borders, as opposed to Norune's area, so he had to hold the charcoal very light and ghost along the page a faint line of a guess at where they ended. He wrote in his native language in the largest letters, then added a careful tracing of the names as found in Hag's books.

The languages were similar, for the most part. Even the written words. It wouldn't take too long for him to be able to write without a reference. Maybe only a few months. But he didn't have a few months right now, assuming Toan was as fast and capable as everyone implied him to be. Depending on Topapa and Cid, Arc could have mere days left to get this all down, and Odin help him if he didn't have something to bring back to Saronia's libraries.

He pulled out his journal, reviewing some notes. Queens couldn't have been that big, could it? He looked between the territories, spinning the charcoal in his hands. With a huff, he set that down and took out Aga's journal and Hag's map. Aga claimed the border to end at a city called "Brownboo," but Hag's map didn't mention anything like that. There was a missing village.

"How old are you?" Arc asked, holding Hag's map. "How young was 'young?'"

Too young, probably. He set the small map that he'd been inspecting aside and added a squiggly line on his larger one, turning Matataki into more of a foot shape than an oval.

Blue Terra was pretty quick to assemble, and soon Arc was able to add the western hemisphere, including the Floating Continent, without much trouble. They'd traveled the place enough for him to know the land almost like the back of his hand. Some of the proportions might have been a hair off, but not enough for most people to notice. Eventually, he would need to put together a more sophisticated version anyway.

The resources here were surprising, given the village's remote location and limited population, but it still was nothing compared to what he could work with in Saronia. Not much point in making it too precise here. He'd have to twist Alus' ankle, maybe, or sneak through some passages in the Library, but when they got back, he would have an updated, complete map waiting to be put up in the Palace.

Arc smiled as he pictured it hanging with his name scribbled in near-illegible letters in the corner. Most people wouldn't know that name, but he could say that he contributed to the world's history – the very first full map, as far as he knew, that would depict all four continents. There were other maps, yes, but at this point, they would have all become outdated, thanks to the cloud of darkness barring the eastern continent from the west.

He let his attention hover over some information in a history book about what it labeled "Realm Guardians." Each region had a beast, a creature from the fae realm to watch over and protect the surrounding villages and settlements.

Not something he could add to the maps, aside from maybe some small icons to denote territory, but he glanced over those records nonetheless. It wouldn't hurt to be familiar with such creatures. Especially since they were described in much the same way as the Crystals back home. Perhaps there was a connection?

His focus was interrupted when a knock sounded at the door.

* * *

Ingus stared at the wall, propped up as he was against the wall of Renee's home. It was a small house, cozy. Too big for two people, going by the standards followed by the rest of the village, and made especially evident when Arc's mother easily fit another bed next to Ingus, where Arc slept at night. Arc wasn't there now – too busy with other things relating to the search for Toan and the author of the journal. As he should be.

But this house was missing people. Arc and his father, most likely. Ingus sighed. Had they actually succeeded in finding his friend's family? It felt too surreal, too easy to be true.

A spring breeze wafted in through an open window, warm and inviting. He could hear the villagers bustling, hastening to finish one of the first plants of the season before the next cold spell set in. Maybe when Arc came back in, Ingus would see where he could help. However long that might take.

A sharp pain shot through Ingus' body, a harsh reminder of his state. He ached still with the healing wounds in his chest and forehead, bandages wrapped tightly around each one. _Pathetic,_ he told himself. Luneth and Refia had gone to seek answers and hunt evil, and Ingus was not only incapable of doing anything to help, but he was confined to a crystal-forsaken _bed_. A cripple. Useless. A burden, even. If it wasn't for him, Arc also would have been able to go and find answers with Refia, or perhaps track down his brother. But no, he was stuck here in this quiet town to fetch Ingus water or medicine.

They'd succeeded. But Ingus didn't feel much satisfaction or relief. He felt like they were missing something. Something critical. Not that he could do anything to investigate that feeling, given his current state.

 _We're with you_ , the Crystals said. _There's more to do. Your friends are fine. For now, at least._

Ingus scoffed quietly. No, he couldn't afford to stay like this. It was over. He was going to leave, with or without Arc.

The door opened, and Arc's mother, Renee, came in. She glanced up his way, setting down a basket of… blades of grass? They were green, long, and sharp like grass, but too vibrant and uniform to be simple weeds. Not that he knew much about plants. Being in the guard all his life had kept him from that life.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, trying to sound unconcerned, unworried. "Any better?"

 _Not really_. "I'm fine," he said. "I'm actually progressing faster than I thought I might." All wounds inflicted without the protection of the Crystals healed much slower. If that man just hadn't _kept shooting_ , Ingus wouldn't be in this inane predicament.

"Those bullets are dangerous," she said with a disgusted sigh. "Weapons these days, they're all lead and poison. They're going to kill more people with disease and infection than anything else. It only leads to more suffering."

 _Unless you aim well enough,_ Ingus thought, touching his forehead. _Then they end it faster than anything else_. The Crystals had prevented the worst of the damage, but it was still going to scar. If they hadn't, there was no way he'd still be here. In reality, those strange machines were probably actually less painful when properly used. "Where's Arc?" he asked.

"Studying," Renee said. "He's barely stepped away from those maps since he got here."

Typical. Ingus should have known that the moment Arc had actually satisfied his goal he would have gone for the books and articles. Nothing like discovering another land and history to distract the boy. He didn't have anything pressing to worry about, after all. The brother should arrive within a week or two, and Luneth, if he survived, would probably vanquish the possessed man and return not too long afterward, if not before. Refia could take a little longer, but with Ruby helping her, he suspected that trip wouldn't last longer than a month.

That was, of course, assuming the possessed man didn't summon the Cloud of Darkness again. Which was highly unlikely. Ingus didn't get a chance to warn Luneth of that bit before Luneth made off and cut himself off from communication.

The Crystal-forsaken idiot was going to get himself _killed_.

"I'd like to go outside," Ingus announced, sliding off the bed. "Can I ask you for assistance?"

Renee was one step ahead of him, darting over the moment he moved. "Of course! Where do you want to go?"

"To speak with Arc. Perhaps, if I can't help in your fields, I can provide him with another eye. I need something to do. Right now, even a walk should prove to be quite beneficial."

Renee nodded, taking his arm across her shoulder and accepting his weight. The stress on his torso hurt a little, but didn't threaten to tear the wounds open again. Each step was difficult – thankfully they had been smart enough to keep him on the ground floor, instead of moving him upstairs where Renee slept – so it took only a few difficult strides to get to the front door.

Stepping outside felt like stepping into another world. There were enough windows inside, thankfully, to allow his body to stay adjusted to the light, in contrast to the time just after defeating the Cloud of Darkness, when he spent days in the darkness of his room in Sasune, on the medics' orders.

"He's at Dran's windmill," Renee said, angling them in that direction. "He just started, so things might be a bit of a mess."

Luneth had mentioned, once or twice, Arc's habit of throwing things everywhere when he got into a project, but Ingus was still taken aback when Renee opened the door to reveal papers and maps and books scattered over every surface, including the floor where Arc worked away, sketching. Renee cleared her throat to announce their presence, and Arc snapped his attention away, eyes widening.

"Ingus!" Arc said. He stood, careful not to disrupt whatever organization existed in the chaos he arranged. "Why aren't you resting?"

"Lay for too long and your body's ability to heal becomes stunted. A little movement is key for expedited recovery."

"Oh."

"Can we speak privately?" Ingus asked. Renee nodded and left quietly. She was kind and considerate. He felt bad cutting her out, but if she had any idea what he was going to do, she would almost certainly try her best to stop them.

"What's wrong?" Arc asked once the door shut. Ingus waited until he was sure the woman was gone. His ears hadn't been quite been the same since the incident, so it took a bit of straining to hear the distant thumping of her shoes down the steps. Not that she could've made out what they were saying anyway – the walls here were extraordinarily thick.

Arc shifted. The silence made him nervous. Sometimes it seemed like all things put Arc on edge.

"We need to go," Ingus said at length. "First thing in the morning, we leave. Otherwise Luneth is going to get himself killed."

"He is?"

Blind fool. Ingus nodded. "The way the Crystals speak has me unsure."

Arc fidgeted. No doubt he wasn't paying attention. It was far too easy, sometimes, to forget to listen in to the Crystals. They were always there, always whispering. After enough time as their warrior, the whispers themselves had become comforting in their own way, but it had also become second-nature to tune them out.

"I was hoping to put together a plan of attack," Ingus said, "before Luneth ran off. Even the Crystals are worried. We can't leave Luneth to fight by himself."

Arc's face shadowed as he bent down to pick up scattered paper, hair falling to hide his expression. Even with his blind spots regarding Luneth, Arc must have understood the seriousness of this predicament. Even with all four of them gathered together, they barely made it out alive last time. If Luneth found and confronted the monster on his own…

Ingus tried not to think about that. _Does Refia know?_ _About the Cloud._

The Crystals responded readily. _We've managed to inform her, yes. But she said that it makes more sense for her to focus on the moons while you three and others take the Cloud. Luneth… it appears he missed it. It has been… getting more difficult, of late, to reach him._

 _Others?_

 _We've already sent some help your way. They're taking a route similar to your own._

Better to get going, then. "How soon can you be ready?" Ingus asked.

Arc pursed his lips, staring forlornly at the maps folded in his arms. "Any time, I guess. Though it would be nice to finish tying things up here. Tomorrow?"

Ingus nodded. "We leave at dawn."

* * *

Finding Ingus' attacker turned out to be harder than Luneth had anticipated. Apparently, people didn't recognize the description that Ingus had given of a man in a dark coat.

Okay, so Luneth had simplified it a little to make it a little more obvious. Ingus could get a little long-winded, and was probably unreliable thanks to the shock, anyway. Luneth was going by the ramblings he'd gotten, which mostly consisted of "that guy" and "the darkness." This was better.

"... And a _super_ gaunt face," Luneth finished for the hundredth time. He paused for a moment as the girl thought. And then he added, "Looks suspiciously like a jerk."

"Oh!" The girl snapped her fingers. "That makes it obvious, then!"

"Really?!"

"No."

"Ugh, that's what everyone keeps saying! How am I supposed to exact revenge if I don't have even one decent lead?"

The girl turned to leave. "I gotta go. Ciao."

"Wait!" Luneth said. "What if you showed me around town, maybe gave me some leads to where I _could_ find some answers?"

"Ew," the girl said, face wrinkling in disgust, "I don't date girls, thanks. See ya."

"That's not what I meant!" Luneth huffed as the girl disappeared into the crowd. "And I'm not a girl!"

What was he going to do now? Luneth fiddled with his pockets, coins clinking inside. He was fresh out of ideas at this point. Asking around wasn't making much of a difference. Perhaps if he were to do something a little more large-scale, attract everyone to _him_ instead of having to go one by one? How could he ask the whole city one question in one minute?

His search for the attacker was proving fruitless. It was surprisingly hard to find someone with nothing more to identify him than "he has a gun and tried to kill my friend."

Perhaps he could instead turn his attention to the white-haired man from Arc's journal. The odds of him actually having a connection to Luneth were probably pretty small, but it couldn't hurt to try, could it?

Luneth sighed, kicking himself for not thinking to bring Arc. Maybe Refia, too - Ingus probably would have been fine by himself in Norune. The idiot probably wasn't physically _capable_ of dying.

 _Okay_ , Luneth thought. That was all well and constructive to think about, but he still needed to find this murderous twit with the gun. Luneth stopped by a post, where Ruby's wanted face was still badly drawn on a paper there. Why were these people still trying to track down an innocent genie when there was an _actual monster_ on the loose?

"Hey." A large finger tapped Luneth's shoulder and he spun, reaching for his sword. Guards, each armed with one of those guns at their sides, stood before him. The man who spoke had a rough voice and harsh features half-hidden under a large hat. He also had a mustache. "We need you to come with us."

"No way in pandemonium!" Luneth said, hand tensing over his sword. "How stupid do you think I _am_?!"

"We just want to ask some questions."

"Oh, sure. Is that what you told Ingus before you _shot_ him?"

"We didn't touch him." The guard's voice quieted a touch. "We're very sorry about your friend. But our job is to uphold the law. And in order to do that, we need you to come in and answer some questions."

Luneth yanked his sword from its sheath, the blade hissing as it scraped against leather, and the two guards pulled their guns out. Luneth hesitated, looking down those shafts. They almost killed Ingus.

"Put that down," the guard said. "Or we shoot."

 _I'd like to see you try,_ Luneth wanted to say. But he bit back his frustration. Maybe instead… if he played along, they could take him to the man that hurt Ingus.

Luneth lowered his sword, "Fine."

* * *

The sheriff gestured for Max, Monica, and Goro to sit while the guards rushed outside. The office was smaller than Max expected, but the Sheriff had an open ear and listened to Monica's slightly-altered story without any objections. He was a pretty gruff man, with dark features and a strong frame, but generally struck Max as a trustworthy person. Seemed a lot like Borneo, actually.

His deputy, Sam, was much smaller and unobtrusive. He currently sat silent at his desk near the entrance, pen scribbling away at some paperwork. Max crinkled his nose at the sight and the memories it brought back. Father had taught him a little bit about keeping up the estate, but Max himself had never had the patience for it. Paperwork had an annoying tendency to crawl into _everything_ , even taking care of a modest mansion in the county. It complicated even the simplest things, like hiring a new steward or gardener. Couldn't one person just pay another for their work and call it done? What did the mayor need with signed papers filled with information he would never look at?

"Seems like a fine institution you have here," Monica said.

The sheriff nodded. "Best you'll find in all Blue Terra."

Max almost remarked on the difference between it and Blinkhorn's place, but he snapped his mouth shut. Given that this was the most developed place they'd seen in their travels, police work must have still been a budding thing, and no small thing to mention off-hand. "Do you capture many bad guys?" he asked instead.

The sheriff got a dark look on his face. "Most of the time, of course. How long did you say you've been here, again?"

"Not long," Monica said. "We just arrived in Queens this morning."

"Really? And where did you come from before that? I've never heard your accents before."

Max glanced at Monica. She simply smiled. "Honestly, this is actually our first time this side of the world as well. We came from the far east."

The sheriff quirked an eyebrow. "Wow. Must be pretty far. I see all sorts in this place, you know. Queens is where everyone comes to eventually, old or young, warrior or farmer. I've met a fair few easterners, and they're nothing like you."

"My city is kind of isolated," Monica said. "We don't get out much. And Max here is from the south."

"And I'm their guide," Goro grunted. Max found himself glad they brought the hunter along. It was reassuring to know that at least _one_ of the three of them was familiar with the world they were in.

"Matatakin," the Sheriff noted. "You lot are just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Goro shrugged.

"And you all came together because… you're looking for someone?"

"... Yes."

Max swallowed and couldn't help glancing at Monica. Her face didn't falter, but she hesitated in responding. The Sheriff narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but before he could say anything, the doors opened, letting in the guards that had left. They held a white-haired boy between them whose face was set in hard lines.

Sam jolted to his feet when the door closed behind them, dropping his pen to the floor.

"One moment," the sheriff said, getting to his feet and stepping away from Max and his friends, "He came quietly?"

"More or less," one of the guards answered.

The boy glared at the sheriff, "So. Did you shoot Ingus yourself, or did you have one of your mooks do it?"

The sheriff glared right back, "I _did not do that_ , and I intend to _hang_ whoever did. Is your friend okay?"

"No. But he's still alive."

Max stood up, "What's this about?"

The sheriff waved dismissively, "Nothing for you to worry about-"

"I disagree," Monica said, "This sounds right up our alley."

"You've fought a lot of monsters?" The white-haired boy asked, rolling his eyes. Until they caught on Monica's Chronicle Sword, and he blinked, as if someone had abruptly shone a flashlight in his face in the dead of night.

Max smiled, "Yep!"

"What kinda monster are we talking about?" Goro said, "I don't know a lot that shoot people."

The sheriff held up his hands, "Hold up. Let's take a step back-"

Monica stepped forward, "I'm Monica. This is Max, and that's Goro. We're hunting something called the Dark Genie."

The boy scratched at the back of his head, "Luneth. I don't know about any Dark Genie…"

"It might call itself the Dark Element," Max said.

"Huh…" Luneth frowned, "What about 'the Cloud of Darkness'?"

Max glanced at Monica, "Never heard that one."

Goro grumbled, "Sounds like this thing goes by a bunch of different names."

"That doesn't make sense, though," Luneth said, "The Cloud of Darkness is _gone_. We destroyed it."

"I don't know about your Cloud, but the Dark Genie is made of hate, or something like that. When I killed it - with a little help - it said it couldn't be destroyed, not forever."

Monica nodded, "We fought it in a different incarnation. Every time we thought we'd found the source of evil, it turned out there was something else pulling the strings. Now, we think we've finally gotten to the end—somewhere in this city-"

* * *

Luneth felt the familiar tingle of magic in his veins. Only, he wasn't using any magic. He looked at the guard on his left, the one that had been silent when bringing him in. The guard looked back at him, eyes hard and narrowed. Red.

Time slowed. The guard's hand moved, gun angling toward Luneth's head. Luneth's body acted faster than his mind could.

He ducked, kicking out and tripping the guard. The guard fell, but easily caught himself before Luneth turned and snapped, "Too slow!"

"Okay," the sheriff said, "At this point, you're definitely mak-"

The gun went off and Luneth felt something cut into his shoulder. He screamed, rage and adrenaline taking over. He yanked his sword from the other guard and made to _cut_ -

"He's gone mad!"

"You didn't bind his hands?!"

"What are they doing?!"

"Was that you, Sheriff?"

"What have you _done_?!"

" _Silly_."

* * *

The guard rolled away and large hands grabbed Luneth's arms as the guard backed hastily away. Luneth sunk his teeth into the leather gloves that held him, and someone cried out. Luneth scrambled out of the man's grasp and flung himself at the other guard, the one who'd _shot him_. "You _murderer!_ " he yelled. "He was _defenseless_!"

People shouted behind him, voices clamored. The guard, the killer, he ran and Luneth chased, firing up a thunder spell.

The world passed him in a blur as Luneth ran after the guard that was way too fast for a human. He almost blurred in Luneth's vision, a mere figure that got further and _further away_. Luneth pumped his legs as hard as he could but it wasn't enough. The man disappeared into the crowd and Luneth was left chasing after nothing. He slowed, darting his eyes everywhere. Women cried out around him as the other guards caught up.

No. He couldn't let them have him, not yet. Not _ever_.

The tall guard swore, grabbing his face. His helmet lay on the floor, knocked right off his head when Luneth dashed away. He righted himself, grabbing his hat. His friend was gone, chasing after Luneth.

"Tch." The guard dusted off his cap. "Kid's fast."

"What?" Monica sputtered, "What just-?"

The sheriff shook his head. "Look, I don't know anything about you, but there's something wrong with that boy's head. He and his friends started up a whole incident in the middle of town yesterday, got a lot of good people hurt. Sorry about that, Flagg. Bit of a mess for you to handle on your first day."

"Flagg?" Goro muttered, "Where have I heard that name…?"

"It's no problem," Flagg said, "In fact, it's nothing less than I expected."

"What?" Monica said.

"That's right!" a high-pitched voice rang.

Max jumped to his feet. He _knew_ that voice.

A large, round figure appeared in the open doorway. "Well, what are we waiting for? Are we gonna catch the brat, or-?"

 _Flotsam._ He locked eyes with Max.

"You!" they both said at the same time, pointing.

"I already told you," the guard called Flagg said. "The two time-travelers would be here. And to whom else could I have been referring? Imbecile."

"You-!" Max grabbed his wrench as Monica unsheathed her sword.

Flotsam yelled incoherently and jumped into the air, thrusters on the bottom of his… person, launching him away as Max and Monica ran after him. Words that Max's father would _not_ approve of ran through his mind like a broken recording. They'd beaten him in the sewers, they'd beaten him in the forest, they'd beaten him in the mine, and _still_ he wasn't dead! Max was willing to bet that the cockroach was going to find a way out of this one, too!

Max swore as he steadied his aim on the clown cyborg and fired.

* * *

The sheriff jumped forward to follow the children, but Flagg stepped into his path.

"What are you doing?" The sheriff demanded, "Stand aside, newbie!"

"That's 'General' to you," Flagg said coolly, removing his hat as he snapped his fingers. Two soldiers stepped in from outside, placing themselves on either side of the door, and he continued,"I put on this little act to see how you'd handle this situation, sheriff, and to give you a chance to regain control of it. But you've only allowed it to escalate further. The people of Queens are greatly disturbed, and now that you've let those walking catastrophes back onto the streets, in moments the city will be in _chaos._ The matter is out of your hands - _I_ am taking over."

As Flagg turned on his heel, he glanced back over his shoulder, "These two will ensure you remain here, since you are currently under suspicion of attempting to murder a prisoner without due process."

* * *

Luneth released the thunder spell and lightning crackled around him. More screams as people ducked away. Even the guards hesitated on the outside of where Luneth had unleashed it. He called down more lightning, still scanning the crowd.

No use. The man was gone. Luneth's _one chance_ at revenge and it was gone. One chance at answers. He looked back at the guards with a glare. _I'm not done, yet._

The others from the office also showed up. The girl with the ruby hair waved for him to see, and Luneth hesitated. Was she saying something? He'd cleared out a rather large area, and she was kind of far for him to hear her words clearly. He shook his head. He had other things to worry about. With a push, he leapt into the air, flying over a myriad of shocked faces. Something inside of him flared to life, a strange energy. Something that didn't feel like just adrenaline.

Luneth lighted back to the ground and took off. The man couldn't have gotten far. Luneth could still catch him, if only he were _faster_. He moved his legs and ran harder despite a stitch opening up in his side.

Until he crashed into something and fell to the ground. Pain burst in his head and chest. "What-?!"

Someone moaned. Someone that wasn't him. It wasn't a thing–he'd crashed into a person. "Who?" he asked.

The stout guy from before - Goro - struggled to his feet. "Ow – watch where you're going, idiot! The whole city's coming down on us!"

"What?" Luneth asked, also standing. "Who's us?"

"You, me, Max, Monica. Now, enough with the questions–we have to move."

The shouting of the guards came closer. Luneth groaned, grabbing his side. It still hurt, but he followed after Goro anyway. He didn't know that he could trust him a hundred percent, but at this point, he was probably better off with him than the city guards. Those guys were _determined_ to see him and all his friends dead, apparently.

"Over here!" Goro ducked into an alleyway and Luneth followed. The pain started to fade as he ran faster, strangely enough. "I told them to meet up at the west gate!"

They ran under some arches and over a canal running through the city before the boy and girl appeared, thudding into the ground, feet first. Luneth startled, rounding on them before Goro grabbed him. Luneth paused for a second before he registered their faces.

"Hey!" Monica said shortly, not breaking her stride. Max grabbed Luneth's hand and took off with him in tow.

* * *

The streets raged with the soldiers hunting for Monica and Max. There were several civilians mixed in, as well. They must have done a good job at stirring up the population to anger against the "dangerous criminals" that roamed the streets. Too bad the idiots should have been more focused on the clown and general that were parading about in bright daylight like they owned the place, shouting orders and claiming they were assaulted. Their audacity, thinking they could frame Monica and her friends for their crimes.

She stepped carefully through the alley, the other three right on her heels. It was like the whole world was just determined to continue giving Monica the worst year of her life.

But the whole _army_? _Really_?

Someone grabbed her by the hair and she cried out in frustration, hitting one policeman in the leg with her sword and cutting her hair out of the other's grasp. It felt lighter all of a sudden. She wasn't sure how much she took off, but she would have to look later.

She couldn't deal any non-lethal blows, not to pawns being moved about by the real threat, the Dark Genie. She wasn't going to let him win. He wanted them to kill a lot of people, to do his dirty work for him. As if she'd just _let that happen_.

She blasted another man in the arm with a fireball. That would cause some scarring, but he would keep his arm. Another man took one of her air blasts. She was forced to stop in the middle of the city as their path was blocked by a wall of police. Goro cursed loudly behind her.

There were too many of them. Pursing her lips, Monica ducked through some bodies, slipping further into the crowd. They seemed to train their focus on one of the others, however, and Monica got through with surprising ease. Some tried to stop her, her hair likely not helping her ability to hide, but in general they gave up if she got through.

She bumped into a large shadow.

Monica stumbled backward, ready to retaliate if they-

Black armor. Monica looked up to see the knight from the tower, his black cloak fluttering in the breeze.

"You-" Monica started, reaching toward him. He responded by swatting her to the side with the side of one sword that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Monica flew and hit stone, rolling through debris before she stopped, arms twitching. _He was supposed to help,_ she thought, scrambling to get to back to her feet. _He was_ supposed to help!

Vision swimming, Monica looked to see the knight didn't move from where he hit her.

"Give up!" a woman shouted nearby, clothed in a female version of the police uniform. She stepped toward Max and the others, revolver held steady. They froze. "We don't want to harm you!"

"Nor we you!" Luneth called back. "Honestly, if we need to, we could light up this whole city!"

Monica sighed in disgust. Saying things like that _did not_ help.

"He's right, you know," a strange voice said. Monica snapped her head around, looking for the source. The knight? He looked at her, face hidden in shadow and metal.

"We've dealt with people like you before!" the woman called back to Luneth. "And we'd rather not have to resort to the same measures we used on them!"

"Risky," the voice said. It sounded deep, like a man's voice. "This is pointless. You have other things to get to. You can't let them keep you here, or others are going to die. Look, your target is _right there_. At this moment, you are powerless. But with my strength, you could extinguish him, easy as snuffing a candle."

Not the knight.

"I can't take him," Monica said quietly. "Not without killing at least a dozen men."

"Hence why the the brat is correct."

"This is a trick," Monica snapped, "You're trying to get me to attack innocent people. Well, it's not going to work!"

"Heh. I am telling you this for one very simple reason, little girl – I don't think you can beat the swordsman. But if you choose not to go after him at all, then that is perfectly fine. You'll hear of his murders soon enough, and you'll think that you could have prevented them. But you didn't even try."

Monica hesitated, shifting the grip on her sword. The black knight was _right there_ , his mask hiding any kind of emotion or reaction he may have had at seeing her was he _doing_ , just standing there? Taunting them? Waiting for the chance to kill them himself before they could get in the way of his plans to harm others in his path?

But she also had to get Flagg and Flotsam out of the way.

Someone–something–laughed quietly. "Heh. Just say the words and leave it to me, girl."

Monica chewed on her lip. She couldn't. It wasn't worth it. The power of the Genie, of that darkness, it destroyed. It didn't save. But they were running out of options.

"I've got it!" Luneth shouted.

* * *

Monica snapped her eyes on him from her position so far away and Luneth grinned as mana surged again in his veins. The best thing about this city was how close it was to the ocean, which was just a whole lot of water.

The guards waited long enough, their leader shouting at them, for Luneth to start a mist rolling in from the bay. Surprise quieted the gathered crowd as the air around them chilled and the air faded as a white fog settled in.

"Cease fire! We don't want to be shooting our own men! Lower your bayonets!"

He couldn't hold the cover forever. Sharing a look with Goro, signaling the time to move, Luneth leapt back into motion, running as fast as he could. Metal sang and some shots fired, but Luneth just kept running in the direction that Goro pointed out.

One guard got close and Luneth lashed out by instinct, veins pulsing with something that wasn't mana. The air flashed with a shimmering, lavender tint and a bolt of dark-colored lighting burned into the guard's chest.

Luneth paused, stumbling, as the body of a non-descript soldier fell before continuing on. How had he managed that surge of magic? Wherever it came from, it wasn't the Crystals. He looked down at his hand, where purple still sparked, fresh and foreign. Or maybe not so foreign. It actually felt a little… nice. Strange, but not unwelcome.

"This way!" Goro cried, appearing at Luneth's side with the others. "The gate's just over here!"

"Wait!" Luneth said, stopping. "I have a ship! It'll be better than going back there!"

"A _ship_?" Goro repeated. "Where'd you suddenly get a _ship_ from?!"

"Are you going to question it?" Max asked. "They're closing in!"

"I need to go," Monica said, turning toward Max. They spoke for a moment, but Luneth couldn't make out the words.

"Come on!" Goro grabbed Luneth. "We need to get out of here before this army fries our hides!"

As much as Luneth hated the prospect, he had to agree with Goro. They were outnumbered at least thirty-five to one. Luneth bit back a retort, frustrated that he couldn't get to the general first.

* * *

"Max!"

"Yes?" He all but appeared at her side. Monica pointed where the black knight had disappeared.

"Saw him," she said. "Go on, you take Flotsam and Flagg. I'll take the knight."

Max looked confused. "He's here?"

Monica nodded. "Yes. And I have a little something I owe him. You stop them, Max. If we don't do this, then the world is good as gone."

"You think I might not?"

Monica paused. He smiled, acting confident. She couldn't tell if it was an act, or if he really didn't think he would have that much trouble taking them down.

"We've made it through how much together, now?" he reminded her. "And you still don't trust me?"

The rage of the riots around them quieted. Monica hesitated. Then gave him a quick hug. "Just stay alive, okay?"

"Of course!" Monica pulled away, and Max touched his cap. "See you!"

And he disappeared into the crowd, following the smoke left in Flotsam's wake. Monica swallowed. Hopefully that wasn't a huge mistake. But she had to trust in him, because if there was one person who _could_ do it, it was Max.

Monica shook her head and turned after the knight.

People pushed in her way, but she leaped over the crowds. No one seemed to have the same capability to jump as high as she could. Maybe that was another mark of her bloodline. Father had always said their line was special, that no one could replace them.

Monica cleared the crowd, landing with a small thud, and dashed on.

* * *

Max hesitated, wrench tensed in his hands. The ship behind him whirred to life, the hum of its engine drowning out the shouts of the soldiers. The soldiers that belonged to this city, that attacked only out of a need to protect that same city. He hated the thought of hurting them, even in self-defense.

"Get in!" Luneth shouted, head appearing in the glass of the cockpit.

The army was still encroaching, thankfully a lot slower now that Luneth had scared them off a touch with that stunt of his, allowing Max and Goro enough time to clamber onto the rope ladder, Goro pushing ahead first. Max shoved his wrench into its latch on the side of his belt before following close behind Goro. People shouted and shots fired. Something grazed Max's leg, ripping a hole in his jeans. Goro yelped above him.

"Can you take us to the air?" Max yelled back to Luneth.

In response, the ship lifted and the ladder swung dangerously. Goro cried out in alarm, but held steady. He glanced down toward Max, and moved his mouth, but Max couldn't hear what he said. The ship's engines were surprisingly loud for such a simple thing. He'd have to take a look later, see just how the thing worked.

Another bullet narrowly missed them and Goro hastened his ascent. He was surprisingly agile, despite his stocky frame. Max came after, hands gripping each wooden bar like it was his life. Which, looking down at the increasingly faraway landscape, he supposed it kind of was. The ship shook from what Max hoped was only turbulence.

Max slowly climbed the rest of the way in until his hands gripped the blessedly solid surface at the top and he was able to lift himself back to safety. It was a rather fascinating sight on the inside–windows surrounded almost the entirety of the first floor, stopping just toward the back, where a wall holding a singular door blocked his view of the rest of the ship. Some couches and table furnished the main body, with supplies lining the wall that included books, rations, clothing… almost anything they could ever want. How was it all still standing upright with all the movement just now?

"Where did you _get_ this?" Max asked as he pulled the ladder in. "It must have cost thousands–no, millions!"

Luneth shrugged, shifting his grip to one hand and turning to face him. "It was actually a gift. Isn't it awesome?"

Max pulled the door closed and the raging wind outside silenced. He took a seat on one of the couches while Goro remained standing. "I like it."

"Glad to know your place is so accommodating," Goro said, folding his arms with a huff. "We just got captured and interrogated and then sent on wild goose chases for our trouble."

"For what it's worth," Max said. "We just got food, for the most part."

"I would have killed for some food."

Max cocked his head. "Don't you do that for a living, anyway?"

Before Goro could respond, the ship swerved and Max was thrown off the back of the sofa. "What?!"

"Crystals!" Luneth cursed, grabbing the steering wheel. "That _guy_ from before, he followed us somehow!"

Flotsam's painted face showed up on Max's side of the ship and his mouth moved, but after they couldn't hear him, not with the door now closed. How was he able to fly up so high? Max yelped, jumping away from the window. Flotsam just waved in reply and readied a cannon.

"Luneth!" Max shouted. "Move the ship!"

The ground tilted again as Luneth spun them away. This thing was _fast_ , almost able to keep up with Flotsam despite his comparatively diminutive size. Usually smaller things were able to move much faster than the large things.

There was a brief pause, in which he seemed to have disappeared in the clouds, but after a moment, he appeared again, waving his hands. His mouth moved frantically, probably spewing insults and death threats. Max scowled, gripping his wrench. Could they lose him in the clouds?

The ship twisted and turned, but Flotsam still kept right on their tail, like a gnat on a summer day. An armored, cyborg, flying, clown cockroach, _gnat_. It was _impossible_ , simply _impossible_ to get rid of him. If the day came that Max could finally bury his metal-ridden corpse for good, that day wouldn't come soon enough.

Luneth remained silent as he navigated, spinning the ship in gut-wrenching circles and throwing Max and Goro all over the place. Max scrambled, trying to keep his eyes on Flotsam while not also throwing up all over the nice furniture. He slammed into one of a weapon rack carrying various axes and hammers. _That_ was going to bruise.

The ship leveled out again and Flotsam appeared, but had stopped flailing this time. He instead pointed at a button on his shoulder. Max narrowed his eyes. What was _that_ supposed to mean? Flotsam pointed at himself, then gestured his arms widely.

He was going to rain, shower, explode-?

… Explode. Obviously.

Max's launched himself toward the wheel despite the ship being _too big_ and the space between them too large. "Luneth!"

Too late. Flotsam pressed the button and Max's view exploded into red and wood and glass and fire.


	11. Chapter 11

_"No parent would ever lose their love for their children!" -_ Arc

Something inside Luneth roared to life.

It was a strange sensation, like there was a living things inside him that _started_ , like an airship preparing to take to the sky.

Okay. Not good timing on that metaphor.

But it felt like the magic he used in Queens, only bigger. He could make out the forms of the other two falling with him, their silhouettes dropping as fast as he was. Luneth reached for them, and something reacted to his subconscious, a need to _preserve_.

He hit the water.

Luneth never expected water to hurt. But he may as well have dropped straight onto Sasune's cobbled roads. His ribs seemed to collapse against the pressure, and water filled his vision as waves folded over him. His clothing soaked it in, turning heavy. Luneth fought against the current pulling him under, but to no avail. He could see nothing the dark abyss of the ocean.

And it looked hungry.

Sunlight was streaming in from somewhere off to his side, broken into ribbons by the water's surface, good, now he knew where _up_ was. He took a moment to reorient himself, resisting the urge to flail wildly. He'd learned a few things from those times that he and Arc would go swimming in the pond.

Well. Those times that Luneth would swim, and Arc would just complain from the shore as Luneth flung water at him.

Luneth lurched toward the surface and broke through to precious air, gasping for breath.

His ears rang. Something rumbled out here in the open. What was that? Where was he? Where were the other two? The ship?

Wood floated about him in pieces, moving lethargically about. Luneth frowned, treading water. So much for trying to find find safety in the _Nautilus_.

Unless...

Something rumbled above him.

Wait.

 _Wait_.

Luneth looked up. The ship loomed overhead, half of it gone. The part that was left had the back propeller still attached, so it somehow managed to remain the air for a minute or two longer before it tipped and started its own plummet toward the ocean.

Dang. He really liked that ship.

Luneth swallowed, accidentally taking in salt water – which tasted _awful_ – and pushed through the waves, away from the falling ship, trying to see everywhere at once. He had to find the others!

The stout guy was easy to make out nearby. He kicked about frantically and his head managed to remain bobbing above water - which was _incredible_ , with the full weight of a soaked bear pelt on his back. Luneth cried out, gesturing to get his attention. "Hey! Hey, Goro!"

The guy turned sharply, still treading vigorously. He looked _angry_.

"This way!" Luneth said, gesturing. "We need to get away, before-"

The Nautilus _smashed_ into the ocean, and Luneth yelped as the world tilted sideways and a giant wave carried him up, and up, and _up_ , before pulling him back under. Debris grazed his arm, and something yanked at his hair.

After another moment of underwater flailing, Luneth popped back up, sputtering. The stout guy reappeared shortly thereafter, spewing water.

"Where's the other one?" Luneth asked, swimming closer. "Did you see him?"

Goro nodded, pointing away from them toward ocean. Though it would have been hard for him to gesture somewhere that _wasn't_ ocean. Impossible, actually.

Luneth looked in that direction, but he couldn't see anything. _Crystals_! He felt out with his mind, hunting for a life source.

The response was weak, but he found one. _There_.

Luneth dove under water again, darting through the depths toward that spark of life. It flickered dangerously, threatening to go out at any time. Was that because he was just learning to use this power, or… was Max…?

Luneth kept going, pumping his arms furiously against the tide that tried to push him back. Eventually, he reached a limp body, full of embedded shrapnel. Max must have been closer to the blast point than Luneth. He wrapped his arms around Max's waist, and pushed upward.

Only, Max was heavier than a pack of bricks.

Luneth reached for more power. It came easily, washing over him, granting a second wind, and he breached the surface again.

"Over here!" Goro called. He was kneeling on a sizeable chunk of the Nautilus, which had somehow remained floating. Luneth hauled himself and the smaller guy onboard, dripping water all over.

The sun had started to sink on the horizon, and it was hard to believe that it was less than a day ago that Luneth arrived in the city of Queens. Luneth scrambled to get a hold on the ship-piece. It held surprisingly steady, despite how little of it there was. It looked to be what was once the hull.

Beside him, Goro coughed out water.

"Okay." Luneth pulled out his bag and tried to squeeze some of the water out. "Don't die, Max. You need to thank me for saving your life first!"

* * *

Goro watched Luneth work, hands flying almost faster than Goro could see. He ripped ruined cloth from the kid's body as fast as a spider spun a web, face screwed up in concentration, focusing on the blonde kid as if they couldn't possibly survive without him.

"Get me bandages," Luneth ordered, "Odin, I can't take this debris out without proper medication. Hurry!"

Goro cursed, fumbling in his pack. He'd learned a long time ago to always carry spare cloth - it was crucial to have, whenever one was between villages. The moment he found it, he ripped it into long strips that Luneth quickly snatched away. The white-haired boy started chanting in a strange language as he wrapped them around the burn wounds. The bits of metal in Max were apparently going to have to wait.

"What about infection?" Goro asked. "Aren't you worried he'll get sick?"

"I'm working on it!" Luneth hissed, breaking the chant. "I'll get those after, since I'm gonna have to take them one by one. Great Ramuh, I wish Refia were here."

"Who's Refia?"

Luneth didn't respond, instead covering more exposed and burned flesh with the cloth. Good thing the kid was asleep. If he wasn't, the pain from this definitely would have knocked him out a second time.

The boat underneath them shifted, and Goro moved by instinct to hold Max in place. Darn ship remains weren't especially stable. Not that he cared, but it would be a shame for Max to survive this wreck only to drown at sea, his body never to be found. Luneth adjusted, still chanting, hands continuing to glow with that same, blue light.

It only continued for a moment, though, before he stopped. Goro gave him a look. "What?"

Luneth took a deep breath. "It's time to take out these guys. It'll heal faster if I remove them first. The cure will take care of remaining splinters, I think. We've never had a problem in the past, at least, but it's been a while and I don't remember for sure..."

Was the guy really such a wimp? Goro huffed, taking a hold of a random wooden piece embedded in Max's shoulder, about the size of his hand. "You ready?" he asked.

Luneth hesitated, then swallowed and nodded. Goro took the cue and yanked, the piece flying free of mangled flesh. Luneth pressed a cure to the bleeding while Goro got ready for the next piece, a scrap of metal in the chest.

The chanting continued, but Luneth kept it in his hands this time, ready for Goro. Goro pulled the scrap of metal free and Luneth reapplied the cure. They repeated that several times – yank, cure, yank, cure – until the visible wounds were mostly gone.

Luneth collapsed back, forehead beading with sweat. His breathing had turned heavy, and his hands were shaking.

"Dang," he muttered. "Should've turned devout first. Might have saved a little mana."

"Doesn't matter at this point," Goro said. "He's gonna live, looks like. That's the most important part." As if reminded, Goro's own body ached. He'd almost forgotten about his own burns. Sun-scorched _clown_.

"He'll be fine," Luneth said. "… I hope."

"How far are we from land?" Goro asked.

"No clue. Why?"

" _Why?_ " Goro hissed. "We have no food is why! You didn't pack anything on this wreck that survived the explosion!"

"It's fine," Luneth said lightly. "Guess what I have!"

He pulled out Toan's map. It dripped and flopped about with the motions of Luneth's hands, but it looked like it somehow retained its image.

Goro started. "Where did you _get that_?"

"Long story." Luneth moved a finger to point, but Goro stopped him.

"Wait," he said, grabbing Max's leg with one hand and Luneth with the other. "Okay, now try."

Luneth nodded, tapping a spot on the paper. Goro couldn't see where he pointed.

Nothing happened. Luneth pointed again.

Still nothing.

"We're too far," Goro said with a sigh. "Rust my axe, but you got me _hoping_ there."

"No!" Luneth said. "It's just touchy."

Goro knew that the thing had a range, but of all times for them to be outside of it! "It only works within a certain area of Blue Terra," Goro said. "And the moon, for some reason."

Luneth sighed. "Oh, well. We've made it through worse."

"You-! Dimwit! We're facing starvation, here!"

"What else can we do?" Luneth gestured to the open sea. "There's nothing out here. As long as I can let my mana store back up… oh, wait." He dug through his pack, grabbing an apple. "I need fuel for my mana, too. It's like exercising. Needs something to burn."

Goro stared, aghast. How stupid could this kid _be?_ There was no way Luneth wasn't gonna get all three of them killed. Perhaps it would be better to just chuck him over the side of the boat, and save the rest of the rations for himself and the unconscious kid, who was currently in the midst of tossing in fever-ridden sleep.

Luneth kept chewing, looking between the ship and Max. "He's probably gonna fall," he noted, mouth full of apple. "Let's get him anchored with something."

"With what? We lost all our rope with the rest of the supplies."

Luneth swallowed. "Maybe we can take turns watching him and keeping him from falling."

"That's a lot of potential sleep to lose just to keep the kid on the boat."

"Well, do you have any better ideas?"

Goro shrugged. "Could use my axe, or your sword, wrap him in a blanket and stake it down."

"It's too warm for blankets. He'll burn – he needs to stay cool in order to heal."

"He also needs to not drown."

Luneth hesitated. "We don't even have any blankets. I have a belt, we can use that to attach him to the pole here through one of these hoop-things on his clothes. Loop it through the front, connect at the pole. Should keep him up here okay."

Goro glanced between the two. It was, admittedly, acceptable. It would keep Max from killing himself. "Fine."

* * *

Ingus walked unsteadily, but Arc pretended not to notice. Ingus wasn't one to back down when he made a decision, and they'd left early for a reason.

Arc himself couldn't complain, though. He hadn't grown very dextrous and agile with a blade, but his leg muscles had strengthened enough that walking for extended periods of time in and of itself didn't tend to be prove a difficult venture. Especially not at the pace they were going. He didn't really know precisely how far Queens was, but at this rate, he suspected they wouldn't get back there for a week.

Ingus gripped his spear tightly, driving it into the ground with each step. Ingus, who could take down a troll in a matter of seconds without being fazed, struggled to walk normally. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite their slow pace, and his face was pale.

Arc swallowed, looking away when Ingus caught him staring. They had to rest, but Ingus wouldn't have any of it, no matter how Arc insisted.

The air here was cool, thanks to the forest ceiling above them blocking the sun. Arc could see why Ingus insisted on moving through this part of the land, even though the other way, where they had come from, was probably more direct, faster.

"It's getting late," Arc tried. "Maybe we should-"

"We keep moving."

"Right." _No matter how many times,_ Arc reminded himself with a quiet sigh.

They walked on. Arc chewed on his lip. He had to find a reason to make them stop. There was no point in continuing if it got Ingus killed.

He racked his brain. He could arrange an accident, perhaps. He could move the ground just enough to make Ingus trip and realize how weak he was… no, that was stupid. At best, it would make Ingus' injuries worse and delay them a day before Ingus insisted on continuing in a state not unlike this one, if not worse.

Arc glanced between Ingus and the trees. Ingus was tired enough, Arc could easily take him in a sleep spell. It would grant him some rest, at least. But when he woke, he would want an explanation, and Luneth had always teased Arc for his inability to lie.

Perhaps… Arc reached out with his mind. The Crystals were still there, as always. _Please,_ he pled. _Make him see reason._

Nothing happened. Arc flushed, feeling childish. Did the Crystals even have any kind of influence out here? Perhaps they couldn't reach anyone besides Arc and his friends when they were across the ocean.

Except that they talked about "help" that they sent. _What's coming?_ Arc asked.

 _Not what,_ they replied. _But who._

"Huh?"

"Hello" a deep voice suddenly rumbled. "Who's this that's entered my lair? Children? I thought I smelled a light."

Arc spun, summoning thunder that crackled between his fingers. "Who's that?"

"Oh, nobody important," the voice said. A huge creature dropped out of the trees and slammed into the ground, making it rumble. It was almost as large as some of the trees, and looked distinctly ape-ish. "Just the caretaker in these parts. Most folks call me Master Utan. Interesting that you would choose to come here – did the Crystals send you?"

"In a sense," Arc said. Ingus didn't look like he was up to saying much, as he kept leaning against his spear. "They sent us on a mission, but not here specifically."

"I'll bet they affect you more than you think they do," Master Utan said. "You can hear them, right?"

Arc nodded. "Of course."

"Sometimes, it's the things you hear when you're not listening that influence you the most."

"You think so?" Arc took a step forward, curious. "I'd heard from current philosophers that much of what we do is determined without choice by ourselves, but I'd never heard it applied in the way that the choice _is_ ours, just not _ours_."

"Well, I don't know about science, but…"

"Can you tell me about Veskin's Theory, then? He says our world exists in a vast ocean, that a goddess formed us from the belly of a fish, but I've never quite understood his logic for it."

"Uh-"

"Or perhaps I should reference it on my own to Rorin's Law-"

"Arc," Ingus said weakly. " _Focus_."

Arc flushed. "Right. Queens. We're going to Queens."

Master Utan flopped into a sitting position, causing the ground to shake a bit. "And what's in Queens?"

"Our friend," Arc said. "We got separated and we're worried about him."

"Well, then. By all means, proceed. Don't let me stop you."

"But Ingus," Arc gestured, "He's not well. Would you maybe have some powerful magic that could fix him? He's sick and-"

"Arc," Ingus hissed, "I'm fine."

"But we can't keep going like this!" Arc glanced between Ingus and Master Utan, feeling desperate. "Please! Tell him he should rest! I can't help him the way I am now!"

Master Utan shook his head. "It's not my place to tell people what to do, young one. If he wants to continue on, he may. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but it appears he wouldn't have it any other way."

"But-!"

"Arc," Ingus said, shaking his head. "Calm down."

Arc worked his mouth. He fixed his eyes on Ingus. The other boy was barely standing.

"I can do many things," Master Utan said, "and I respect the Crystals, and the requests of their chosen. But this one-"

 _Forget it._

Arc spun toward Ingus, "Sleep!"

Ingus promptly collapsed with a thud, spear falling on top of him. Master Utan looked at Arc, hair hiding his eyes and making his expression unreadable.

"Well, now," he said.

Arc breathed hard. Ingus was going to kill him when he woke up. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know what came over me, I just…"

"He does need the rest, I'm afraid." The ape shrugged. "Alas. What's done is done. At this point, all we can do is wait for him to wake up. So, tell me about yourself, little human. What brings you to this side of the world?"

"This side…? How do you know about that?"

Master Utan chortled. "Believe me. I've come to recognize when someone's accent and attire don't match up with any of the cultures around here. It's a small world, after all. You humans look the same in face, but you can always tell someone's story by the way they dress."

"… Dress?" Arc looked down. His outfit was now comprised mostly from what the people in Norune had gifted him, though he took a few liberties for the sake of comfort and practicality. It didn't seem like those villagers tended to travel much, so he had to take his own coat for its pockets and his satchels. "I didn't think it was that obvious."

"Maybe not _obvious_ , little one. But there some telling giveaways. Like those emblems on your belts. I've only ever seen them once before…"

* * *

He stepped through the forest, leaves crunching under his boots. It was quiet, calm.

Too peaceful for the taste of the darkness in his veins.

Master Utan's voice carried to his ears, and he turned in that direction. The forest was warm compared to Demon Shaft. But then, Demon Shaft was hardly a warm place, with its spacious rooms and lofty heights.

Down here, his armor felt heavy against his bones, and his blood cold. He didn't care for this, wandering the lowlands once again. These were the realms of humans, and he'd long since lost his place among them.

The trees let up, revealing a small clearing. The sun hung low on the horizon, casting orange light about and illuminating three figures. Master Utan spoke with a brunette boy, while a blond child slept peacefully to the side.

Was that…?

No, it couldn't be.

 _It is,_ his ever-present companion chuckled. His breath caught, vision blurring with stinging tears, but his stride didn't pause.

Arc. Arc was _alive_.

The fae guardian of the Wise Owl Forest quieted when he entered the clearing. "By Terra," the ape said. "Aga. Is that you?"

" _Aga_?" Arc exclaimed, breathless. "Is he-?"

Master Utan nodded. Arc turned disbelieving eyes on him. _Crystals_ , he looked just like Renee.

"Aga. What are you doing? Have you let it taken it over you completely?"

He couldn't touch Master Utan. And Master Utan must have known that it would be pointless to try to fight him, since he didn't react, though it must be obvious what was standing before him.

He gauged his situation. Ingus and Arc were near Master Utan. If he engaged Master Utan, then the guardian would probably keep him-

 _Enough stalling._

His limbs moved on their own. His blades appeared in a blur of red and black, unbeckoned by him. Arc yelped in surprise.

 _The heart._

He moved faster than he could think. His sword aimed-

 _NO!_

The world stopped. Blood sprayed as one blade pierced through Arc's back. The boy didn't make a sound. He yanked the blade out, blood flying in a wide arc as Arc glanced in his direction, eyes wide. Betrayed.

A blast of fire hit his face, and he whirled to see a young girl with eyes and hair that glimmered red, like rubies. The girl from the tower.

 _Her name is Monica. Angry little thing._

She fired another blast at him before leaping forward, blade first.

 _Stop_.

He slashed back, hitting her in the arm.

 _Stop!_

She screamed as he sliced her leg. Monica retaliated and cut through his armor into his shoulder – what was that she was wielding?

The Chronicle sword.

The blond boy - _Ingus_ \- was now awake. He stumbled about, confusion written on his face.

How did the girl get that _sword_?

He took advantage of Ingus' confusion, slicing cleanly across his neck. Blood flowed for a moment, staining Ingus' collar and cloak, but the flesh quickly healed over again. For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder at the sheer power of the Crystals' light.

Among all this, Arc remained standing, unarmed and unalert, not two yards away. His Crystal health was low - he could see that in the way his person looked somehow _dimmer_.

He flashed out of the way of Monica and Ingus' path. Master Utan watched, pained. He couldn't do anything. The guardians, the fae, they couldn't touch anything powered by the Dark Genie. Only the Crystal and its associates. And…

He glanced at Monica as he moved back toward his son. Ingus yelled, rushing in to stop him. Too late.

He drove both his blades into Arc.

* * *

Ingus froze as the girl engaged the warrior, leaving Arc to stand alone, blood dripping from his mouth.

"Ingus," he managed, voice weak and hoarse. Arc stared ahead, as if he couldn't see Ingus. His mouth hung slightly, like the words were stuck inside him.

Metal sang behind Ingus as he rushed forward to catch Arc, who kept staring ahead even as Ingus grabbed him. Blood caked Arc's body, though his robes were mostly intact save for the discoloration, and the holes where the knight had driven his blades clean through.

The sound of clashing metal vanished and Ingus snapped his attention upward. The knight had disappeared. Only the girl and Utan remained, both of them watching Ingus and Arc.

A moment passed in silence.

They were safe? Ingus took his chance, rolling Arc onto his back and ripping his coat and robes off until he could see the wound. And paused, watching the flesh seal back together on its own. Arc still had some power left from the Crystals, then.

Ingus felt a brief moment of relief, before the impact of the situation hit, and he forgot for a moment how to breathe. That must have been the rest of Arc's light, since the healing stopped again shortly after. He pushed Arc back onto his back. The other boy had lost consciousness at some point, and his face had paled to almost a purplish-grey. His chest and mouth were still and silent.

Great Odin. Arc was dying.

Ingus dropped the bloodied and torn robe and snatched a phoenix down from his bag. He dropped it on Arc's body and the spot that touched the down lit up in a wide glow. Arc breathed quietly, still asleep, and some color returned to his face. Blood still trickled from the corner of his mouth, but Ingus suspected that was just leftover in his lungs.

The girl walked over, and Ingus sucked in a breath. She was already there when he woke up - could she be a spy of some kind? Assassin?

No. Foolish. She'd attacked the knight like a creature possessed.

She just wiped her blade on her trousers, then sheathed it. She looked over the two, face impassive. "How is he?" she asked.

The girl's expression and tone indicated indifference, but Ingus already felt better. If she wanted them dead, she need only have struck in that moment. Neither Ingus or Arc would have been able to resist.

"He'll be fine," Ingus said, turning his attention back to Arc and summoning a curaga in his hands. His body ached, already straining for light. This would slow Ingus' own recovery by quite a bit, but Arc definitely needed it more. "That knight exhausted the Crystal's energy inside him. This cure should wake him within the hour."

The girl put a hand on her hip. "That's fast."

"It will still be a while before he has his strength back."

"Then we need a place to rest," the girl said, addressing Utan. "Is there a safe place nearby where we can find shelter?"

Utan nodded. "Matataki Village is nearby. The people there are good, and they'll fight back any unwanted guests. But I must ask, where do you come from, human girl?"

She stood a little straighter. "Monica Raybrandt, from the Raybrandt kingdom," she said, voice projecting through the clearing. "But that kingdom doesn't exist here. We've met in the future."

"The future? Hmmm…. interesting. The Raybrandt line is revived at some point, then?"

"Yes. I don't remember the details, but my father brought it back from dormancy. I think."

"Very interesting, then, given that kingdom disappeared without a trace hundreds of years ago."

Monica shrugged. "My father was distantly related, and the previous line died out or something. I honestly didn't pay that close attention in my history tutoring."

"That's curious. I understood it a bit differently."

"You're a _princess_?" Ingus asked, aghast. "And you're not familiar with your line of authority?"

"I had other things to do!"

"That's your kingdom! _How_ could you not know that? I'm a captain and I know my king's line of authority back twenty generations!"

"Well, I'm sorry if I don't live up to your standards, _soldier_. I'm sure you know how to rule a kingdom better than I do."

"Children, children" Utan interrupted, "Calm. Monica, this is Ingus, from the kingdom of Sasune on the western continent, and apparently a captain. Ingus, this is Monica Raybrandt, from sometime in the future. You both come from completely different positions, yes, but it appears you both have the same goal."

"Killing that two-faced murderer?" Monica asked. "Because at this point, that's all I care about. That and ending this war."

"War?" Ingus said, "What war?"

Utan scratched at his head. "It appears they're more closely linked than you might think. The creature that possesses Aga is likely closely associated with the change in the timeline. It's an emissary of the Void, but most folks around here call it the Dark Genie – if you can defeat it, then I'll bet you can fix the timeline."

"Timeline?" Monica repeated. "Change?"

"The moon," Ingus said. "Did you realize there used to be two before one of them disappeared for unknown reasons?"

"The _moons_?" Monica gawked. "You're trying to fix the _moons_? Getting rid of the other moon _was_ the fix! It was destined to destroy the world! The Darkness from the future - well, technically the past, but the future at same time - anyway, it almost did _just that_ by dropping that moon on Blue Terra, and we stopped it!"

Ingus felt his jaw drop. "What."

"Forget about the moon," Monica said. "It's _good_ that it's gone."

"She's right," Utan added. "The problem isn't with the moons, but the fact that you remember. The Atlamillia - or the Crystals, if you prefer to call them that - must have protected your memories. That's a bad sign - means there's something going on that they're _desperate_ to stop."

 _Not even the Cloud itself realizes what will result from this._

"Like what?" Monica asked, the indignation from before dying a little. "The destruction of the world?"

"I'm sure that's involved somehow," Utan said. "It has to be big for the Crystals to pull something like this. They see things differently than humans, you see, and from fae too. It's hard to know what they truly want, but it's usually for the good of all of us, and it usually doesn't involve giving mortals memories of other timelines. So if they're doing that, that means we're in quite grave danger."

 _It's more than that_ , the Crystals whispered. _It's not just this world at risk._

Arc stirred, eyes cracking open.

"I'm not following," Monica said.

"I am," Ingus said, "I'll fill you in once we get Arc to Matataki,"

* * *

Max stood in darkness.

Part of him recognized that he was dreaming. He couldn't remember what exactly happened, besides the splintering ship losing all sense of weight, but he knew that it was bad. He didn't want to look down at his body, afraid of what he'd see, so he kept his eyes fixed ahead. Even after all of his traveling with Monica, he still hadn't grown used to pain, or even the sight of blood. But if he didn't look, then for a while, he could pretend there was nothing to worry about.

In some ways, this place reminded him of his first meeting with Monica, back on that colorful night, when he thought she was a thieving urchin that wanted to go to the circus just as much as he did. This somehow felt just a touch similar. He couldn't tell why.

 _You want to know how you got here._

Blinking, Max glanced around. He almost forgot about it in the excitement at Queens, but they never _did_ figure out how they arrived in this time. It left a strange curiosity gnawing at the edge of his mind. He and Monica had beat the genie - rat, or whatever it was - and somehow that sent them to another time? It never _did_ make sense. And the images he saw bothered him, because he thought that maybe they were connected. Maybe it didn't matter that much, but he did want to know.

 _I can show you. But only if you promise._

"I promise."

Promise what? He felt, more than heard, the impression to do what would be asked. There was a hidden, silent plea inside the offer. His dream wanted him to do something in exchange for doing as it told.

 _You followed the genie._

Images. Max stepped through Zelmite Mine, through its murmuring depths. The caverns moaned ominously, something terrible hiding in its depths. Monsters, corrupted fae - creatures of evil - roamed the corridors, stalking their prey. Stalking _him._

Max shivered, remembering their haunting eyes. The memory of them had faded with the time spent in this era, but when he saw them again, his skin burned with the memory of razor-sharp fangs and claws ripping hungrily through him.

 _This is your mind. Everything you see is made up of your own thoughts. It is all real. I cannot show you anything you do not know._

Monica appeared beside Max, and he smiled for a moment, enjoying the familiarity of her presence.

 _Everything you see is made up of your own thoughts._

His smile faded as he looked closer. Her form was translucent, and she stepped out of time with with the sound of her feet hitting the ground. Not actually her. Real, but not _there._

"She's only my imagination."

 _Yes._

Max frowned. This felt a little too vivid for a normal dream. Who spoke to him? What was that presence in the back of his mind?

 _Look. The Genie._

They stopped before the entrance that led them to face the Genie. Max swallowed as it all played before him again. The Genie laughing and Monica jumping. Max hesitated in following. He watched as the scene changed again to… nothingness.

"What?" Max asked. It was utterly void of color or light. It wasn't even _dark_ , it was just… empty.

 _This is what happened. You followed the Genie into a portal, one that traversed through time. And time is… complicated. You were… caught inside the Cloud, so to speak. I cannot explain exactly how it happened, but in the ensuing snarl, you were thrust with it into the urn where it was imprisoned for some years before continuing on. There was a period where you were stuck in the urn with it, and…_

 _Well. The urn was not designed for you. You fell out of time, and nearly vanished into the void. The crystals pulled you back, to their home. To Demon Shaft._

Max watched the image around him shift to purple. Dozens of fae creatures danced and purple fires burned, until it all dissolved to light. Dusty, orange light, shining against the aged stone of a tower that stretched for forever into the sky.

A figure appeared beside Max, wearing golden robes and sporting a foot-long, white beard. "This is where you met Aga," he said, with the same voice that Max had been hearing. "Where you landed."

Max nodded. "How did you know? Were you there?"

"In a sense, but that's unimportant. What matters is that Aga - the knight you met in Demon Shaft, who you saw again in Queens - _is_ your enemy."

Max grimaced. "I was afraid of that."

"The Cloud overcasts his mind. Though he struggles against it, the same creature that grew in Sirus now grows in him."

Max winced at the reminder of that incident, of Sirus bleeding out, of the moon crashing down on them all while they fought the Darkness. He remembered a strange, crushing feeling, like a huge, invisible weight bearing down on him.

"We have to fight it again?" Max asked.

The old man nodded solemnly. "Hence why I showed you this. My request, my plea, is that you don't kill Aga, but you remove the stain inside of him. Killing that creature's vessels doesn't change anything. It will merely search out and possess another. But if you can weasel out its essence, its soul, and destroy it from inside the vessel, then it can be removed from the world once more."

"How?"

The man nodded to the tower. "You need to stall it. You need to remind the vessel of the good in the world, of the good in _him_. And then destroy the creature that emerges from that. It'll separate the souls, so to speak, and give you something to strike."

"But we've already done that," Max said. "How can we destroy it such that it won't _ever_ come back?"

"Oh." The man looked pensive. "If that's possible, I'll be sure to tell you when I figure it out. Can you ever utterly and completely destroy a species of weeds from your garden, removing all chances for it to come back _ever_ again?"

Gordon had talked to him about such things. Max shook his head.

The man continued. "You can only cut it down, poison the roots, and get rid of that particular crop of it. You then continue to tend to the garden, pulling out weeds as they come. This particular rise is fragile, weakened by the latest defeat. If you are decisive, you may delay its return for a very long time."

"How can we do that?"

"You are approaching this era's wielder of the Chronicle Two,." The man turned to face Max full on, his wrinkled eyes narrowing. He was surprisingly intimidating for someone that barely came up to Max's chest. "I believe you are familiar with the blade. Use it on anyone with the Cloud inside them, and the sword will not only remove it from them, but it will hurt the Cloud as well. If you can get it fully exposed, get it down to its last, primary vessel, then it will be vulnerable. Cut it free."

The man disappeared into light. Then the world faded.


	12. Chapter 12

_"I can see a light within you, each bright and strong... The light of courage... The light of kindness... The light of affection... And the light of determination... Your hopes and dreams all turn into light, and give you strength."_ – Doga

Arc blinked his eyes as sight slowly returned to him. Leaves crunched beneath him and moonlight filtered through the trees above. His chest burned, mostly around the middle.

Right, stab wound. Arc hadn't felt anything in the shock and panic of the moment, but he remembered seeing the blade sticking out of him, and then blood. A lot of blood. And it was caused by a man in black armor. A man who shared a name with the author of Arc's . Arc's father.

His _father._

Arc groaned, gripping dead leaves in one hand. The air tasted musty in his lungs – Fairy realm. They were still in the forest, with Master Utan. Ingus sat next to him, head bobbing, fighting against what looked like an overwhelming need to sleep.

Arc struggled, lifting himself into a sitting position. Master Utan's deep voice rumbled, apparently sensing Arc's shift to consciousness.

"Welcome back," Utan said. "You're lucky, little one."

Arc didn't know that "lucky" was the term he would use. "He – he attacked me," he said. All this time, all this effort, and his father turned out to be just like that man that tried to kill Ingus. He was one of the _bad guys_.

Utan was a shadow in the moonlight, outlined by the soft glow. He bowed his head. "Yes, I'm afraid. Something has happened to him."

"But… that was…" Arc tried to stand, but Ingus, now suddenly alert, pushed him back.

"Don't," Ingus said, holding his own wounds. Did Aga get to Ingus, too? Or did he aggravate his old injuries? "You need to rest."

"But you were just saying–"

"He's right," Master Utan said with a sigh. "I hate to do this, but the Crystals agree. _Both_ of you need to rest before you take one step further. I'll take you back to Matataki, and I expect you to accept the help of the villagers there. Pao at least should find you soft beds and warm food."

"He's right," a girl said, stepping into the light.

"Oh!" Utan said, "I don't know if you remember, but this is Monica. She stepped in around... well, when Aga attacked."

Arc didn't recognize the girl. Her hair was a deep, reddish pink, like unpolished rubies, and held in a tight braid. She wore tough material, buckled in various places, including boyish shorts and a sleeveless vest. Bruises and scrapes marred her exposed skin. Were those from of Aga?

"Monica?" Arc repeated. The girl nodded.

"I might be able to help," she said. "It sounds like we're on the same path, here."

" _Related_ path," Ingus corrected her. "There are some key differences."

"Like?" Arc asked.

"It doesn't matter," Monica said, waving a hand. "We're both fighting against the Dark Element and that's what counts."

There was a short pause. Arc glanced at Ingus, who said, "The Cloud of Darkness."

"Oh!" Arc blurted, moving to stand again. His chest throbbed in protest, and he quickly settled back down. "How did you know about that?"

"It's a long story," Monica said.

"Sounds like one that might be best related in safe quarters," Utan said. "Let's get you to Matataki and find you some nice, soft beds."

A soft bed _did_ sound nice. Arc didn't resist as Master Utan picked all three of them up with surprising care and stomped away into the forest. The three stayed quiet; Arc suspected that they felt just as exhausted as he did. Leaves floated gently through the air, reflecting the light of the moon. Somewhere, a wolf howled.

"The Genie has a way of finding people," Utan said softly. "Now that he knows you're here, and injured no less, I think it would be wise to move again in just a few days. But don't go far. Find Brownboo–it's close to here, and though they distrust humans, I'll tell them to take care of you until you can move more freely again."

"Brownboo?" Arc asked, grabbing one of Utan's fingers to pull himself up a bit further though it hurt to do so. "A fae village?"

"Not fae. Moon folk. They're similar in some ways, but I wouldn't recommend calling them fae to their faces. They're an interesting lot and may not strike you as much when you first meet them, but their hearts are in the right place and they have good means of protections. Here we are."

They'd cleared the forest and stepped into Matataki, whose fires were still lit. Some chatted amiably, while others hauled recent kills and pelts around. Some sharpened weapons, others rinsed blood from their clothes.

Arc swallowed, heart sinking to his stomach.. "Um…"

"What's wrong?" Ingus asked.

"Don't they make you nervous?" Arc asked, shuddering as he watched one hunter rip something from inside a dead deer. "I've read about people like these."

Utan nodded. "They're not cruel, young ones. Wait until you get to know them better before you make judgements."

Arc frowned. "They scare me."

"I'm not scared," Monica said, leaning against Utan's palm, "but I don't like it all the same."

"We don't exactly have much of a choice," Ingus said.

"Pao," Utan said, summoning one of the smaller men. "I found something I was hoping you could take care of for me."

* * *

The Cloud of Darkness.

Refia hated leaving the others behind to take it alone. But she had a sneaking suspicion that if she couldn't find the answer to the moons, then keeping the Cloud back wouldn't make that much of a difference. And the Crystals promised that there were "friends" on the way.

But _the Cloud of Darkness._

Refia currently followed Ruby through dark overgrowth and tall grass. Ruby insisted they were getting close, but Refia still couldn't see a single soul.

"Isn't this supposed to be a big city?" Refia asked.

Ruby kept trudging ahead. "It was."

Branches and shrubs grabbed at Refia's dress and ripped holes in her sleeves. The air was humid, muggy, and bugs swarmed near her no matter how much she tried to bat them away. Refia grumbled, smacking a fly that landed on her arm.

How could she just leave the others alone to deal with the Cloud by themselves? She still carried scars from that time and they itched a little as she remembered fighting that thing. Sure, they beat it, but it was _back_ , and so suddenly. How could she feel safe, knowing it could just pop back into existence at any time?

 _Monica has reached Ingus and Arc,_ the Crystals whispered. _They're safe._

Refia chewed on her lip. It made no sense to turn back now, anyway. It was a small comfort to know that Ingus and Arc weren't alone, at the very least.

 _What about Luneth_?

 _He's… distant. We can barely see him._

 _But?_

 _He's stranded in the ocean._

 _He–_ what?

 _But he's also with Max and Goro. They should make it to Saronia safely, it appears._

 _Max and Goro?_

 _Friends._

Refia frowned. _Not so reassuring._

"Are we there yet?" Refia asked, feeling suddenly impatient. If they could get this done soon, then perhaps she could rush back and try to help...

"Not yet," Ruby said, picking up the pace a little. She was determined, at least, Refia noted bitterly as she swatted another mosquito away. Though "determined" wasn't going to soothe her itching bites when this all was done, nor was it going to save Luneth from starvation.

The forest opened up a little, clearing the way to show plains beyond the thicket. Ruby picked up pace with Refia close behind. They made it out of the thicket at last, thank the Crystals, and Refia inhaled deeply from the clear, non–bug–ridden air. The sky was clear, with hardly a cloud to be seen, and it was so _warm_ here. Even the ensemble Norune had gifted her with didn't bring any relief from the heat beating on her exposed arms.

Ahead of Refia, Ruby broke into a sprint, her feet lighting atop the ground despite her physique not holding any type of hint toward physical strength or agility. Refia ran after her and was surprised by how hard it was to keep to up. Her legs protested against the speed–she couldn't keep it up for long. Ruby leapt into the air, twisting to see the land from all perspectives. Refia rolled her eyes. There was nothing here. It was evident in the grazing wildlife, the rolling grass and hills. When was Ruby going to give in and announce that?

"What are we looking for?" Refia asked as Ruby glided back down. "Towering structures? Crowds of people? Didn't you say there was a _kingdom_ here?"

"I'm trying to find the _ruins_ of the kingdom," Ruby said. "I knew they'd died out, but a kingdom of that size doesn't just disappear. Let's head east. It might be over there."

They'd already gone pretty far in that direction, but Refia didn't protest. Surely, eventually, Ruby would get the point that it wasn't here. There was _nothing_ here. Unless they were looking for a good steak from a deer, of course.

They ran for another little while before stopping at the edge of a chasm that rolled with mist and forest

"Nothing," Refia sighed. "Still no ruins that I can see."

Ruby fell on the ground with a disgusted sigh. "Where _is it_?"

"Landscapes change over time," Refia said. "You told Ingus that his 'time' was a while ago. _How_ long ago?"

"Four hundred years."

"Could it have been buried?"

"No," Ruby said, shoulder slumping. "I was there only a few hundred years ago." She jumped to her feet again, rolling her shoulders. "Maybe I missed something. Come on, one more time."

Refia groaned and followed as Ruby ran again.

They ran over the hills and through herds of deer and on, further and further, passing through forests and rivers and against a cliff face. Ruby floated sometimes, lifting just a little off the ground. Refia assumed that was to get a better view. Large craters dotted the landscape, some stretching down for miles. Refia gave those edges a wide berth while Ruby would pause and lean over the edge, as if she could find what she was looking for inside.

" _No!_ " Ruby shouted when she finally stopped, about to topple off of a cliff. "No, you _idiot!_ You _blasted idiot_!"

Refia stopped with her, gasping for breath. The wind blasted them both out here, not having any trees or mountains to break up it up. "It's okay," she managed between breaths. "It's… We all make mistakes–"

"No!" Ruby said again. "Not _me_! That fool king! He – agh! I can't believe it! He's such an _idiot!_ "

Refia gulped some more air down, hands gripping her knees. "The same king you told us about in Queens?"

"Yes. My stupid, _stupid_ son. He never learned!"

"Son?" Refia asked, perking up, forgetting the painful stitch in her side.

Ruby inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, hair whipping about in the wind. "Sort of. He married my daughter. Never knew what he was getting into. She was infatuated, a young half–genie, still discovering her powers, but never mind that. It's a story for another time. The point is, he _took my castle._ The jerk!"

They could see a whole valley this time, which stretched into what looked like the plains they'd wandered before. "How do you know this was him?"

Ruby's eye twitched. "He's the only one I know with enough power and enough sheer _stupidity_ to pull this off. There's no other way that there wouldn't be a single _wall_ left of his kingdom otherwise. Even if it was destroyed, there should be at least some overgrown bricks. And these trees are far too young and scarce."

"What did he do?"

"He took the place," Ruby said, standing again. "The whole, fae–forsaken land, from tower to drainage pipe. He must have used a forbidden spell and taken his entire kingdom forward in time. Look at the craters. People who aren't good with magic tend to take ground with them instead of just the buildings. And there's no ruins. They were a political giant just a few hundred years ago – if they'd died out naturally, they would have left _something._ And he's the only one I've met in those hundreds of years who would do this."

"How do you know it's not backward?" Refia asked. "If he went far enough back, then that would explain the lack of ruins. Again, could be buried."

Ruby shook her head, kicking at the dirt. "There's no _point_ in going back!"

"Why not? What's in the future?"

"Knowledge, technology, atlamillia – resources. The past only has primitive artifacts for historians and museums, not to mention all the added risk of warping reality. Haven't you _ever_ traveled through time?"

Refia paused, racking her brain. "Not that I know of."

"It's dangerous. If you're not cautious, you can stop people from existing and sabotage entire timelines." Ruby started gathering a spell in her hand.

"I was cautious, once," she continued, turning the spell over in her hands, "For a while. Like all people should be. Like Seda _is not_. But there's this thing about remembering other timelines – eventually you start to see where your actions have consequences, and where they don't. This whole thing, with you, your friends, _my_ friend – it's going to reset, I think. When all the pieces have fallen, I'll probably go straight back to my lamp in Queens, and no one, not even you, will remember that any of this happened. Toan might knock on my door again, he might not. I honestly doubt he will."

"What are you saying?" Refia asked slowly, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach.

Ruby stared wistfully into the light of her spell. "There are those who like to meddle. It's for the good of the world as far as they see it, and I realize that, but it really messes things up for the rest of us. I'm going to create a path along the same route Seda used here. It should be accurate within a few years. I want you to–"

"Wait–we're going to the _future_?"

"Not me. You'll be alone. Look for Seda. Look for his kingdom's library or whatever it is they use over there. Find out what happened to Ingus, find out what happened to all of you. I doubt any of you belong here, and the least he could do for messing things up like this is give you some information."

 _None of us should have been on that ship._ The words played in Refia's head. Arc's voice.

"Although," Ruby said quietly, "you should know that I… did some bad things. Seda may not want to hear from me again, but if you get the chance, try mentioning my name. It'll help him believe you. Are you ready?" Ruby asked, raising her hand, light bursting. "It'll only be open for a few moments."

"Wait," Refia said. "How do I get back?"

Ruby shrugged. "A path always crops up. Let's be honest – it's the _future_."

* * *

Refia tripped through the portal as the ground heaved below her and the sky spun in a whirlwind of motion. Stars blinked in and out of view and the moon jumped from its position to somewhere beyond the horizon. Refia felt something rip from inside her, a sense of power dying from her grasp. When she landed on solid ground again, the sky was dark and her head swam from the assault on her senses.

 _Just an effect from travel_ , she reminded herself, repeating Ruby's warning. It didn't do anything to relieve her churning stomach, but it provided a small comfort, knowing that she didn't actually just jump through space.

… Did she?

"Where am I?" she asked as her vision cleared.

No one answered. Right–Ruby stayed behind. Why was that again? Refia shook her head. Not important. "Information," she reminded herself. "Just get the information."

First things first. What was her landing site like? Refia felt plush carpet under her boots and smelled smoke in the air. Apparently they still used incense in the future, whenever this was.

It was dark in the room, and chill. The electricity used in Queens didn't make it to this side of the world, judging from the cold and the lack of lights. Unlit torches lined stone walls, fire long gone given the lack of smoldering embers.

Refia stood, realization settling in like a rock in her stomach. Royal bedroom. Not unlike the ones in Saronia. She turned to see a sheer-draped canopy bed, where a silent figure formed a lump in the sheets.

Silent. Not snoring. They murmured something, unintelligible to Refia's ears. She backed away slowly, a window behind her. The figure rose, eyes blinking in the dim light of the moon. It was a man, with silver hair. The king? Prince? A ward of the king?

Refia moved further, praying he wasn't alert enough to differentiate her from the shadows. He narrowed his eyes in her direction. _Don't let him see, don't see–_

The man shouted something and Refia silently cursed in his direction before making for the window, reaching in her mind for the power of the Thief, for its subtlety and agility.

It came up empty. Refia froze. The power that was wrenched from her in the portal–one of the Crystals was _out_.

Refia hissed, instead changing to Dragoon–if nothing else she had to survive the fall–and jumped straight through the window. Ninja or Thief would have gotten her killed anyway.

Glass shattered easily against the impact of her armor and Refia fell. A cry rang through the castle grounds as bodies gathered and men shouted. How were there so many up at this hour? An intruder was caught in the system, an assassin. So much for diplomacy. On the bright side, if they had a library, it wouldn't be in the main building, so if she could just–

She landed, and the squad in charge of the grounds charged. Refia leaped, using the power of the Dragoon to propel herself high enough into the air to allow for a good view of the grounds. Aside from this structure–the royal residence, Refia assumed–there were dozens of connected buildings.

Was that a mage tower off in the distance? Refia had only heard about those in stories, an academy specially built for those trained in magic to protect the kingdom. They were too expensive for the average kingdom to uphold. Explosions caused by amateur mages destroyed lots of equipment that had to be replaced on a regular basis.

The fact that this place had one–a big one at that, it must have been as tall as the Crystal Tower–caused Refia to wonder just how this place managed to maintain it and how their economy must have been doing for that to happen.

But she had to focus. A gate marked the entrance to the castle and the surrounding buildings like the barracks and mage tower. When Refia landed, she prompted the guards to chase again since their aerial weapons apparently weren't available yet. She leaped again, this time launching at an angle so that she fell again just outside those gates. The squad hesitated. What were they supposed to do with their target if said target was no longer a threat?

Kill her, apparently, since a few telling arrows thudded into the ground near Refia. She took the hint and changed to Ninja.

The city outside of the castle was more up to date, technologically–speaking. Odd, that the more sensitive, "important" part of the city that housed their king would be so primitive and yet the common peasants would enjoy the luxury of electric lights and fires. Refia pursed her lips as said peasants started waking up to the commotion, curious heads peeking out their windows and looking for the cause of alarm.

Refia, now in her ninja garb, disappeared in the dark as soldiers filled the streets, hunting for the armor–clad figure from before. Refia feigned confusion, occasionally stopping to ask a guard what was happening – with her mask down, of course. They didn't suspect a thing.

The city was huge. She thought she could spend forever here if she wanted, and no one would ever find her. They wouldn't even have a clear depiction of her to track her down after tonight, probably.

Refia ducked into an alleyway where she collapsed against the wall, exhaustion hitting her like a brick. That leap through time had taken its toll, and she was missing a very key energy. She listened now, finally having time to discern the whisperings of the Crystals.

 _Welcome back_ , one of them said. _It's been years. Hundreds of years._

Refia closed her eyes, welcoming the familiarity of their voices. _What's happened?_

 _Seda is king again,_ they replied. _He has been for some time now. Other things have changed that might be of interest; the Floating Continent is still doing well, but the people are expecting it to falter and crash soon. They're preparing to evacuate. Saronia is the second–largest kingdom, and has set a record for longest–lasting. It was the largest power in the world until Raybrandt appeared again–_

 _The Wind Crystal?_ Refia thought urgently. She had to admit, getting a sneak peek into the future was tempting, but she had to manage priorities. _Where's Wind?_

… _Gone. We…_

The link _stuttered_ , words muting and unmuting, syllables tripping over each other. Refia blinked. She'd never felt _that_ before. _Not something I'm allowed to know, I guess._

 _Not from us. But any information you might need is inside King Seda's library._

Refia thumped her head against the wall. Getting back in there certainly wasn't an option.

 _But if that's too much for you, there's another who can answer your questions. We can guide you there instead._

* * *

Arc glared at the offensive journal in his hands. It had grown more battered in the time he'd been carrying it, to the point where the covers now threatened to fall off. He tried in vain to secure them a little, fingers coaxing up the corners to sit just a little straighter. He only succeeded in taking both off completely

His chest still hurt, despite the Crystal light inside of him having been restored already. Arc frowned, tears of frustration heating his face. He'd dragged Luneth, Ingus, and Refia into this, gotten one of them killed – even if Ingus was shortly revived by the Crystals – and lost the others. He even managed to hurt Monica and her friends in the process. All for the sake of this silly notion that he might have a "real" family somewhere in the world.

He was fifteen now. Finding them didn't make any difference–Renee was a total stranger, and his brother would be no better. And then, worst of all, Aga, his _father_ , may have been the _cause_ of all this trouble in the first place.

The covers slid off the journal and Arc gave a sigh of disgust before throwing the blasted thing at the wall, causing it to burst in a shower of loose papers that scattered and blew across the ground. He knew he would regret that later, but a part of him couldn't bring itself to care just yet.

Crystal voices murmured in his head, but he didn't bother to tune in and decipher their words. If it was important, Ingus would probably listen. Arc hurt too much right now.

It felt like there was a force pulling on him, yanking at his nerves. It was different from the usual hurt related to his chest–this one was less physical and more emotional. Something inside him _ached_ , almost like it did when the other kids at Ur would tease him. Not because they hid insects in his shoes and dumped ice water on him in his sleep, but because they said he was _different_.

And because Arc knew they were right.

The door creaked open and Monica entered, looking a little worse for wear. In the midmorning light, he could make out gashes and cuts he didn't notice before.

"I heard something," Monica said, darting suspicious glances around the room and lingering on the destroyed journal. "Did someone come in here? Are you okay?"

Arc slumped. "Yes."

"Yes as in someone came in to assault you, or yes as in you're okay?"

"I'm okay. It's just–that man is… _Aga_ is… "

"A traitor," Monica said at the same time that Arc finished with, "My father."

They stared at each other for a moment.

Monica fell a seat beside Arc's bed, jaw lax. "Your _father_?" she asked, incredulous. "I admit, that's a bit of a shock."

Arc sighed, and nodded, pulling the covers up closer to his chin.

"Arc?"

He sunk further into the blankets. What was he _thinking_ , coming here in the first place? "I don't want to be here," he said, voice a hoarse whisper.

"Not much choice, I'm afraid," Monica said flatly.

"Why not?"

"The forces, fate, space, whatever _thing_ it is that enjoys this twisted game has specifically arranged for us to be here. No way out."

Arc paused. She sounded angry. At the Crystals? "It's not a twisted game," he said.

"Isn't it?"

He wasn't sure _what_ it was. It just _was_. He peeked out from behind the blankets. "Maybe it's life."

Life was hard sometimes. The Crystals didn't change any of that, for better or for worse.

In the distance, someone screamed.

Arc started, shooting a look at Monica. "Did you hear that?" he asked.

She furrowed her brow. "Hear what?"

"That scream."

"I didn't hear anything any screaming."

Arc frowned, settling back.

The pain from before worsened. Something _ripped_ in his heart. He moaned, trying to burrow deeper into his blanket. Why did it hurt so much? Why did he feel like someone was trying desperately to yank his heart straight from his chest?

"I'm sorry," Monica said. Arc could barely hear her. He tried tuning into the Crystals, but their voices blended together into an incoherent mess of distorted cries. "I guess I got a little carried away."

Then the world stopped. A strange force hit Arc's chest, knocking the breath from his lungs. The Crystals' voices died in his ears and it felt like something _cracked_ inside of him, like something _broke_.

Strong hands grabbed him and yanked him up, leaning him back.

He didn't realize he'd started slipping over the side of the bed. Arc tried to stand, but Monica pushed him back, saying something that muffled in his ears. The Crystals. That was the Crystals. One of–

 _Near the tower,_ the Crystals murmured intently in his head, voices returning. He _came. He took its power, our brother, he drained it and–_

Monica said something, a question that Arc didn't hear.

"The Crystals!" Arc grew frantic, fighting to get to his feet. He pushed past Monica, stumbling towards the door. "They're–!"

"Wait!" Monica grabbed his shoulder. " _What_ Crystals?"

"It's dead!" Arc cried, reaching desperately for the door. "It's _gone_!"

Monica tightened her grip, holding him back. "What are you saying?"

"Ingus!" Arc yanked away from Monica and she followed him outside.

Ingus. He had to talk to Ingus. Thankfully Pao had ramps instead of ladders, and Arc didn't need to maneuver a wind spell to get down. Though, as it was, he almost tripped on the way down the swinging ramp. He felt _really_ weak. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he felt a lot like he was trying to walk with stilts.

Arc pressed on, gritting his teeth against the pain flaring up in his back. He skipped past several hunters that exclaimed in worry at the sight of him, talking about things like "bedrest" and "healing."

 _He comes for us,_ the Crystals murmured. _We need your help, Warriors. Come!_

"Ingus!" Arc shouted. "Ingus!" If that man drained the Crystals, if he cut off their power, if their enemy offset the balance–

Ingus was there, leaning over a grinding stone near someone's home, gripping his spear for support. "I felt it," he replied with grit teeth as Arc rushed over. "Fire."

Arc stopped, hissing as his back throbbed. Did he reopen the wound? "Yes, I think so." He felt inside him for those jobs, for Geomancer, Scholar… "You're right. Fire's jobs are gone."

"By the Ancients," Ingus cursed softly, lifting himself to his feet. "We don't have time. Someone is going to aim for the rest of the Crystals and take them all out."

"Wait," Monica said. Arc had almost forgotten about her in his haste. "What are these 'Crystals' that I keep hearing about?"

"Protectors," Ingus said. "They take care of this world. Or, the equilibrium."

"They're the source of our power," Arc said. "But more than that, they guard the balance of darkness and light because if that balance is destroyed then time stops for everyone and the world is returned to the void."

"If the man with the gun drains all four Crystals," Ingus said, "The effects might even reach this continent. Our power ceases. The world, as we know it, is destroyed."

Monica pulled at one of her bags. "I still don't follow," she said, "You'll have to repeat that in more detail as we move."

"Ingus," Arc pressed, stopping him with a hand on his shoulder. "You have to leave me. I'm no good to you like this."

"No," Ingus said. "We're not leaving you behind."

"It won't help to bring me. Time is precious and I can't keep weighing you down like this!"

"Arc."

"No! Ingus, I'm tired of causing problems! Let me help you by staying and not interfering this time!"

Ingus grabbed Arc's shoulder and spoke with such sudden intensity that Arc started in surprise. "If we have to," he said, "then we'll sit and _wait here_ until you stop thinking that."

"But–"

Ingus gripped Arc's shoulder harder, fingers digging through his coat. Arc winced. "No," Ingus whispered. "It would be _quite_ imbecilic to leave a man behind. This is the _Cloud of Darkness_ , who appears to be enacting much of the same plot as last time. You think we should risk splitting up any further? They chose _four_ warriors for a reason."

Arc looked at Monica, objections dying on his tongue. Crystals, but Ingus was right. They didn't have enough men.

"Can you move?" Ingus asked. "Speak honestly."

Arc hesitated. Moving hurt his back, and he felt weak. "We would have to go slowly," he said at length.

Monica looked between the two, studying them. A look of concern crossed her face. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked. "Even with this healing power of yours, I don't know that anyone should attempt to travel after sustaining a hit like that."

To Arc's surprise, Ingus nodded before he could. "As long as he can still cast, it will be fine."

Monica nodded, looking satisfied. "Then I'll trust you. Come on, sounds like we should get going."


	13. Chapter 13

" _I can see why the crystals chose you. I can feel the light within you...strong, yet gentle…" –_ Aria

Luneth stared up into the sky, lying on his back and watching the seagulls reel and cry in an endless circle. What did seagulls even do? They made Luneth think of the ocean, of endlessness, but he didn't know why. Maybe they popped into existence simply for shipwrecked people like him to watch, given there wasn't much else to see aside from Max's barely-conscious body and Goro's inane sulking.

"Do they have seagulls where you come from?" Luneth asked. He didn't care who answered – he half-expected neither of them to, what with Max being almost dead and Goro being a prick.

"No," Goro said. "Now stop talking. I'm trying to think."

"But there's nothing to think about!" Luneth said. "How doesn't it drive you crazy?"

"I've had practice. Now shut up!"

"Guys," Max rasped. "This isn't–"

"You too, future kid!"

Max quieted. Luneth humphed, and crossed his arms. His legs rested over the edge of the remains of the _Nautilus_ – Cid was going to have his hide for destroying the ship – and his head rested over his leather pack. From here he could see the sky and how it stretched on for ages. He could see the endless ocean and how it stretched on for ages. He could see…

Well. That was pretty much it. Hence why the seagulls were so interesting.

Max coughed, and Luneth thought about how frail the human body was. If he didn't have the power of the Crystals, or if another one went down, he could be just like Max or Goro, where all he needed was a well-placed bullet, a magic spell, or a sword taken to his heart, and it was goodbye to this existence as he knew it.

Odin. That was a scary thought.

"Goro!" Luneth said.

"What!"

"Are we there, yet?"

Goro growled. "You're the one that's _from_ there, Tuesday! Why are you asking me?"

"You're the one sitting up straight!"

"Because you're too lazy!"

"I'm too _hungry_! My stomach feels like it's going to collapse!"

"Well, that's too bad, because I don't have a clue when we're going to reach land. _If_ we're going to reach land And besides! You were the one who ate up all our reserves!"

"That's because I need the magic!"

"Yeah, _that_ helped!"

Luneth groaned, rolling onto his stomach. He hadn't been this starved since they were traveling in the desert last year. If Arc were here, he would probably have gotten some mini-ed rations out of his bag. One day, Luneth would remember to start trying that spell with his own stuff, but it made things so hard to find sometimes, and that was just troublesome. He tried casting a spell, but the mana felt dry in his veins. It was like trying to jog without having drunk water the whole day.

He pushed aside the issue of mana. He'd tapped into… _something_ back in Queens. A power of a kind that didn't require fuel. Luneth reached inside again, sensing at that same strength that strengthened his limbs despite the malnourishment, that gave him a well to draw back on despite his mana being depleted.

He stared down at the water running beneath the ship, throat dry. One of the first things they'd learned in traveling the ocean was that no matter how thirsty one got, one should never drink the water they sailed in. But, maybe if he could purify it…

He glanced to Goro, who still sat, absorbed in thought. Luneth needed a container, something to hold the water. He dug into his bag, fishing out a potion that he promptly drank. It revitalized his systems, bringing life to his veins and a sense of strength to his fingers. Maybe this would be a waste, but that was something to worry about later.

The now-empty flask served as a perfect container, holding about a pint of ocean water. Luneth looked into the bottle. As he pulled from the the non-Crystal source, his desire to drink the water quickly dissipated. The _need_ dissipated.

How could he remove the salt? Luneth narrowed his eyes, staring at the bottle. He could cleanse it of other impurities, but it still wouldn't do its job if it caused more thirst than it quenched. He and his friends had learned how to collect it with the right equipment, but it was the kind of equipment that couldn't be carried around in a traveling pack. He would have to pull the clean stuff in some other way.

Usually, in this scenario, they would have assumed they would be working without magic. If one was working with salt water, that meant that it had gotten to the point where they couldn't just Geomancer their way through. Luneth held his hand steady above the flask. He didn't need to change jobs, since this power didn't come from there.

With a sort of _nudge_ , the water between his fingers changed. Becoming lighter, clearer. He imagined drinking it, and it just sort of… cleaned itself.

Luneth hesitated, swishing the water in his flask. It was now completely clear, untinted by blue or green or foggy white. It looked better than the polished dishes in Saronia's royal chambers. He'd taken a couple of those once, fascinated by the pristine shine that Alus' servants had given them, though he'd never told anyone. But this… he'd just found out a way to clean water to the point that it put all the best goblets in the world to shame.

He took a small sip, just to be safe. It tasted… almost a little sweet. Like spring water. He could make spring water!

"Hey!" he said, scrambling over to Max's side. "I got water!"

"You what?" Goro grunted.

Luneth put the flask to Max's lips, coaxing a small sip's worth down his throat. "It's clean! Look!"

"How–?"

Max choked, eyes fluttering open a crack, and Luneth lifted his head up couple of inches to ease it in a little better. "It just needed a little magic!"

Goro scrunched up his nose. "It doesn't look like much."

"Of course it doesn't. But we don't need much to survive, anyway. Okay, now it's your turn."

Goro started, scrambling back a bit. "I ain't drinking _that_!"

"Why not? I swear it's clean."

Goro looked between Luneth and the flask. "You sure?"

"Yes, now drink up. I need to make more. How far are we from the shore?"

Goro shot him a glare. "I _said_ I don't know. _You're_ the only one who could possible know that."

"Wasn't talking to you." Luneth tuned in, listening for the Crystals as he prepared another flask of water. They at least should have had an idea, an estimate. They always did.

But they remained quiet. Not _silent_ , just too quiet for him to hear.

"Hello?" he tried.

Still quiet. He tried focusing in, and that made a few words discernible, including "distance," "incapable," "dangerous…"

A sudden pain flared in Luneth's head and he cried out, almost dropping the flask.

Goro climbed over. "What was that?"

Luneth shook his head, filling the vial again. "Headache," he muttered.

"Not a bite?" Goro glanced suspiciously at the water, fingering his hammer. "I could try to take it out, if it was a fish."

"No," Luneth said. Crystals knew, Luneth could have done that himself. "It's fine."

Goro grunted and returned to his spot on the other side of the raft.

Luneth frowned at the vial as he swished it clean again. Was that pain from the Crystals?

He… couldn't tell.

* * *

Saronia was large. It was _huge_ , even. Toan thought it was possibly bigger than Queens.

Toan stared despite himself, mesmerized by the sheer mass of life that managed to fit onto the rocky hillside. The people here dressed differently from any others Toan had seen, with more ropes and belts and vests. Wagons and carts rolled by, showing they were still a few years behind the rest of Blue Terra, where automobiles were becoming everyday occurrences. If one were in Queens, at least.

The air smelled like sea-salt and fish. It felt faintly warm, and as Toan weaved through the crowds, he felt sweat start to bead on his forehead. It was _much_ warmer here, somehow. He wiped at his face, trudging through Saronia's cobbled streets.

"Halt," a guard said, appearing suddenly. From head to toe, he bore full-body plate that clicked as he stepped closer, and he carried a sword at his side. Xiao bristled at the approach, but Toan simply gave him a blank look. "State your name, traveler," said the guard.

Wonderful. Not five minutes into a foreign city and already the authorities had him in their sights. "Toan," he said. "Why?"

The guard shook his head and gestured with a gauntlet-ed hand. "Move along."

Toan quirked an eyebrow as he moved on. "That was kind of weird," he said to Xiao, who hissed back as they walked away. "Do they do that often?"

She twitched her ears and cocked her head to one side. Her version of a shrug.

People whispered all around him, pointing and gesturing. Perhaps he stood out amidst all the drab pastel colors that people here wore? It seemed everyone was in pale blues and reds, like those in Queens. Only here, the colors went with all sorts of belts and buckles instead of the vests and dresses of the other continent.

Toan and Xiao passed houses ranging in size from hovel to two-story mansion. Most people appeared middle-class at best, with many passing in dirtied faces and ragged robes. Toan reached instinctively for his pouch as some urchins rushed past, laughing loudly. They barely glanced his way, chasing each other down the streets. Voices rang out from that direction, and some cheered. Banners waved just down the street, with many differently-colored streamers and handkerchiefs fluttering about on the wind.

Toan cast Xiao a look. "Parade?" he asked.

She darted off through the mass of people, and Toan had to run to keep up. It was hard to get through the dense crowd, but after some pushing and prodding, he could finally see that there was definitely a procession of some kind making its way down the street here. There was no music, strangely enough, but soldiers marched in formation, followed by a large palanquin.

"Come on," Toan said, as Xiao peeked out from underfoot. "I don't think this will help us." He turned to leave again. Watching stiff, wealthy people wasn't exactly going to tell him where-

"Excuse me?" A young woman stopped him, "Pardon, but are you Master Arc?"

Toan froze. "What? Arc?"

"Oh, I guess not. Er, sorry, I just–"

"Wait, no–" Toan tried to call her back but she disappeared into the crowd. Xiao cocked her head.

"Master Arc?" an older man asked, feeble hands grabbing Toan's. "The Council's been wanting your advice. We've been trying to contact you for months!"

"I'm not–"

"The Warrior Arc?" someone else asked.

"The sage?"

"He's here?"

Whispers spread like wildfire and before Toan knew it, half the city was on him, many crying for help. "My son!" a young mother called. "Please! You can heal him, can't you?"

"I–" Toan struggled to keep away as hands grabbed for his. "I'm not Arc! Who are you?"

He backed into another, and turned to see a mass gathering behind him as well. He was trapped. Xiao's back arched and she hissed furiously, swatting her claws at the boots of those that got too close.

"What is this!" a man's voice bellowed. One of the guards. "What's going on here?"

"It's the Sage!"

"He's come to help us!"

"Please!"

"Back!" the guards shouted. "Back, I say! Everyone, remove yourselves! This man doesn't carry the Warrior's Seal! We'll have none of this during the king's march!"

Within minutes, more forces rushed in, breaking up the throng. Large hands grabbed Toan and yanked him away. Reacting by instinct, Toan reached for his sword, but the man who took him – one of the plated guards – held out his own blade as a warning and shook his head.

Not today.

"What's going on?" a young, patient voice asked. "What warrants such a noise?"

"Your Majesty!" a collection of voices cried. The soldiers all stood at attention.

The crowd parted, forming a clean pathway to Toan and allowing him a clear sight of the newcomer. A young, fair-haired boy stood on the steps to his palanquin.

"Who are you?" The kid asked. He was dressed in elaborate, embroidered robes and coat, with a golden crown on his head that glinted in the sun .

"Just a traveler," Toan said. "I'm Toan, from Norune Village, on the other continent. I was hoping to find someone I was looking for here."

The kid looked at the two guards that flanked him on either side. "It's not him," he said simply. "What's all the commotion about?"

"He could be an impostor, sire. Look at how he's already got the city riled up. He could have gotten you hurt!"

"He certainly doesn't appear to be trying that anymore."

"If you'll allow me," Toan said, yanking his arm out of the hand of the man that held him. He stepped forward. "I actually came in search of Arc, myself."

The kid raised an eyebrow. "Did you? To what end?"

"My brother's been missing for many years now, and we presumed him dead. But I think that this sage everyone's talking about might be him."

The child-king matched his step forward, a squadron of guards trailing behind him and shooing away civilians that got too close. He moved close enough for Toan to make out the purplish brown of his eyes. His skin was tanned, and his hair a pale blond. And he couldn't have been older than _twelve_.

"You certainly bear a likeness," the child said, still staring. Despite his physical appearance, he acted more like Toan would expect of someone several years older. "Come," the king said. "Let's talk at the castle."

The crowd was quiet, whispers echoing along as the king motioned for Toan to join him in the moving box.

Toan cast Xiao a glance. "Wait," he said. Everyone stopped to listen.

Toan swallowed, noting all the eyes on him. "Is it okay if I bring my cat?" he asked.

* * *

Starlight Temple was a beautiful sight. It was late evening when Refia arrived, as per the advice of the Crystals. Stars twinkled in the sky above and the moon shone bright, casting soft shadows over the temple's platforms. A huge, glowing crystal floated over the center, casting a faint blue glow into the night. The buildings appeared to be built around that Crystal - they all faced inward, with their doors pointed towards the crystal, bridges between their platforms circling around the central one.

The air was cold. Refia breathed out against the chill prickling at her skin. Wind gusted in from over the mountain, whipping at her dress and making her teeth chatter. Refia tried in vain to pull her clothes in tighter and block out the cold, but it was to no avail.

 _In the center,_ the Crystals said. _The old woman_. _Standing above you_.

Refia followed their directions. The residents of this place – small rabbit people, it looked like – barely glanced at her twice. Her warrant for arrest either hadn't reached this far, or the people didn't recognize her. Perhaps there wasn't much _to_ recognize – she had been wearing a concealing suit of armor at the time, she reminded herself. Well, after she'd first worn her Norune outfit that she'd promptly discarded in the next village.

Now she traveled in tough leather and pelts. It wasn't entirely comfortable, but it was warm, and she looked completely different now.

For whatever good that would do.

Ascending the ramps, Refia made her way to the top where the aforementioned woman stood hunched over, staff in hand and clothed in large robes. She turned slowly to face Refia, and greeted her with a knowing smile.

"Ah," she said. "Dear me. A Warrior of the Crystals of the Light. Welcome, welcome – I've been expecting you."

"Pardon?" Refia asked, stopping at the top, trying to smooth her clothes. She didn't look _strange_ , did she?

"This Crystal told me you were coming. I almost didn't believe him."

"… It told you."

"You're familiar with the feeling, aren't you?"

Refia nodded. "I do. But I thought it was just us."

The woman pointed at the crystal, wind making her robes flap and billow. "They don't just choose Warriors, my dear. They also need guardians and sages. If we spent a little more time trying to help these beings, instead of waiting on them to be forced to appoint people for life, I think we would be dealing with a lot less of the problems that we have."

"My Crystals told me that you would help me."

"Oh, yes! Goodness, I forgot," the woman waved her staff and yelled over the edge of their platform, "Rufio! Get me that book, won't you?"

"Yes, Crest!"

"No, you buffoon! It's 'Sage!' I'm not one of the _rabble_ , here!"

"Yes, Crest!" One of the little rabbit people came hurrying up the ramp, a large tome in hand. "Here!"

"Now," the woman said. "That's right. I'm Sage Crest, caretaker around these parts. You're little Refia, I hear. Great First Sage! You're quite real, I see. The Crystal told me all about you, you know. I heard about how you and your friends saved the world from being sent off into the void all those years ago. Frankly, we owe our lives to you, my dear."

"Oh." Refia fidgeted. "Um, you're welcome. We did our best."

"Right you are! Anyway, this book, see," Crest opened it, frail pages crackling in her weathered hands. "What was it you wanted to know again?"

"The moons," she said. "What happened to the moons?"

"The _moons_?" Crest repeated, eyes crinkling as she slammed the tome shut. "My _dear_! No one remembers that! The other moon disappeared when a certain other pair of travelers stopped it from crashing into the planet! If that's all you've come for, I'm afraid that this was all a waste of time!"

Refia flushed. "W– what?"

"It's silly, actually. By doing so, they caused other travelers to leap through time and try to fix it."

"What about the Crystals?" Refia asked. _That_ was definitely a problem. "Why do I only feel the three?"

"Oh, yes," the woman said. "You left before it happened, didn't you?" She opened the tome again, flipping towards the end.

"What happened?" Refia pressed. A sickly feeling clouded her stomach and her blood chilled despite the pelts.

"'Without the four Warriors of Light," Crest said, clouded eyes skimming the book's pages, "Not all the Crystals could be restored. With Luneth gone, the Wind Crystal remained silent. Years have passed, and most have given up hope that either it or its hero will ever return."

"Hero? Luneth?"

"He disappeared, dear," the woman said, solemn. "Something happened, something terrible, in the Cave of Tides, and he vanished into thin air Your friends, they didn't do so well after that, I'm afraid. Why, the First Sage, he was never the same. His heart was shattered without his friend. But there's nothing we can do there, Refia. It sounds like whatever occurred was beyond anyone's control."

 _No such thing,_ Refia firmly told herself. "What else does the book say?"

"Not much. It does say, in the words of the First Sage, that the hero Luneth was possessed by some demon that also took his friend, and when he disappeared, the friend recovered right quick. Hence the belief that there was nothing to be done. Took it with him, it appears. A heroic sacrifice for the good of the world."

"Unless I can kill the creature," Refia said. "Unless I can get rid of it before it takes him."

"True. I'm sorry I couldn't bear happier news, child. Is there anything else you wish to know, that might help you in the past?"

Refia hesitated in thought. "Yes, actually. What can you tell me about Ruby the Genie?"

Crest froze. "The King's mother-in-law?"

Sounded about right. "Yes."

"Oh my. Well." The book closed again. The woman's expression hardened and her voice became a little tight. "She's dangerous, for one. Killed a lot of people in her time. Not that the people now know, but back, way back, she was all but a weapon. She's a genie, see. Holds a lot of power that you can see even now in little Princess Monica. Ruby fought against the king, once . Nearly destroyed his army. You never know what she's after. Sometimes I wonder if all this is mere ploy of hers for power."

Ploy for power? Dangerous? Refia thought of the giggling, often whiny woman she left behind.

 _I… did some bad things_ , she had said. _Seda may not want to hear from me, but if you get the chance, try mentioning my name._

"Why, dear? How did you hear about her?"

Refia snapped back to reality. "I just… heard some stories from some people in the city. Wondered where they came from."

"You're exhausted – I can see it. Come, let me get you something to drink. A bite, perhaps. Anything especial you're craving? I can't make any promises, given how much food had changed in the past few hundred years, but I'll see what I can do."

Refia let her move her along, protests dying on her tongue. She felt numb, her mind foggy. Crystal dead. Luneth… gone. And she didn't even know how to get back to the past yet.

 _Ruby wanted information_ , she reminded herself, _this is what I asked for_.

Sort of.

* * *

The evening was bright and warm. Monica wiped at her brow, suffering in the humidity. The stifling air of the forest seemed to follow them even into open spaces. She trudged ahead of Ingus and Arc, both of whom – despite their insistence on going fast and far – lagged far behind, and Monica had to slow down to stay at pace with them.

 _They're so troublesome._

Wind gusted through the trees and along the beaten path those in Matataki dubbed a "highway." Leaves and brush blew along the ground and crunched together under Monica's feet. She was grateful for the clear air in her face, as it helped her forget a little of the heat burning her skin. The sun glared orange on the horizon, still showing bright and hot despite the dropping temperatures in the forest.

The road was quiet and still, save for the distant thumping of hooves and other kinds of feet. Some sounded heavier and closer than others. Monica fingered one of her monster badges, smiling a little.

The sun sank further into the horizon as they walked, until stars started appearing in the darkening sky overhead. The forest quieted further, though she could still hear the sound of feet trotting about in the distance.

She paused again to let Arc and Ingus catch up. Ingus was faster than Arc, but even he was struggling. At this rate, they would have to stop and rest before even reaching the edge of the forest.

 _You could just get rid of them._

The thought came suddenly. Monica blinked.

 _They're dead weight to you._

It was the same voice from before.

A knife suddenly thudded into the ground less a yard in front of Monica. She jumped, grabbing her sword.

 _That's why it's so empty_ , she realized, mentally kicking herself. Fairies wandered these roads after sunset. It was almost laughably stupid of her. Though this side of the planet appeared to be strangely calm and empty, Monica and Max were still pretty careful about not wandering about after nightfall. Feral and rabid beasts liked to pick off the lone, tired travelers.

As if to prove her right, a scruffy wolverine jumped out of the shadows, shortly followed by a tiny fairy. A pixie of some kind? Monica didn't recognize it.

Arc jogged up to her, a staff materializing in his hands. "Looks like a Tuesday," he said, breathing heavily. "I read about those in Norune."

No problem, she thought to himself as Ingus came up on her right. Even in their current state, those would be easy kills for–

A hulking, purple, hound-like creature almost as big as the trees themselves lumbered out after them, throwing aside both fairies with a quick swipe of its horns. Those horns by themselves were bigger than Monica.

"Behemoth," Ingus said flatly. "That's just unfortunate."

"I assume we fight?" Arc asked. "Losing a hungry beast like that is notoriously difficult. But with the fever, if I'm not careful, I could light the whole forest–"

"Shut up and move!" Ingus said, charging. Arc yelped, and the air around him immediately lit up with a faintly purple glow.

Monica turned to the behemoth, which slowly stepped forward, growling. Its fur was patchy with blood.

 _Use me._

That _voice_ again! _Not now!_

Monica fired at the behemoth with her bracelet, and the air chilled. Fog rose around her, and she darted a look to Arc, whose previous clothes had somehow disappeared and been replaced with black robes over white- and blue-striped pants. A large, pointy hat rested on his head, and he muttered something quietly, a staff gripped tightly in front of him. His face was pointed down toward the ground, eyes closed.

Monica startled when he snapped his attention forward again. The sky split with a flash, and a deafening boom sounded through the forest as a streak of lightning connected with a nearby tree. It cracked.

Ingus froze in the middle of charging the beast, watching the tree tilt, then start to fall. Monica moved toward Ingus as the beast howled in surprise and rage. The tree slammed into another, then fell to the ground with a loud thud, separating the beast from Ingus.

"Sorry!" Arc called.

Two, three more trees split with the impact, one of them also falling. Thankfully, the humidity appeared to have stopped the electricity from starting a fire. Monica cast Arc a wary look.

The sun and its light were completely gone now, and they were all but blind. Another wolverine appeared out of the darkness, howling madly. Monica grabbed Arc and started running. There were probably at least a few other fairies and creatures that heard the noise.

"Go!" she called to Ingus, who was trying to dislodge a branch from his boot. "They're going to wake up the whole forest!"

Monica yanked Ingus free of the branch and all three of them ran.

The behemoth was trying to climb over the new pile of tree trunks. Monica cursed. If it was the behemoth by itself, they would probably have been able to handle it okay, but with the addition of that wolverine and the rising clamor of waking forest critters, they could be in trouble if they tried to fight.

Arc yelped as one set of claws grabbed his arm. He snapped up a barrier of ice that circled the three of them, forcing them to stop in their tracks.

A pack of wolverines appeared and slammed against the ice, and Monica spun around. There were about a dozen of them, maybe less. And there was that behemoth, whenever it finally caught up. They were surrounded.

"What now?" Monica asked as the shield cracked. Apparently it wasn't meant to protect against so many claws at once.

"I've got this," Arc said. He pulled more ice from the chilled air and arranged a circle of spikes around him.

The barrier shattered just before the spikes shot off, one of them taking a wolverine in the chest, another in the head. About half of the creatures fell to the blast, stabbed through with icicles. The rest panicked, some darting off into the dark. A couple remained, eyes wide with fear.

Something slammed into Monica from behind.

She hit the ground, pain blossoming in her knees and back. Fangs snapped as two – three wolf-like beasts bore down on her. Monica tried kicking back, but it did no good. She felt hot blood seep over her skin and soak into her clothes.

Arc screamed in a language that Monica couldn't understand, and fire exploded around her. She let out a shout, holding up an arm to protect herself, but the flames barely touched her.

She breathed hard for a moment. The smell of burnt fur and flesh filled her nose and stung her eyes. She lowered her arm to see smoke wafting from blackened sticks and singed grass. The blast didn't last long enough to light up any trees, apparently.

With a painful groan, Monica hauled herself into a sitting position, teeth grit and one eye starting to swell. Whimpers sounded around her as the life edged out of the wolverines. None of them moved, now. Not beyond some thrashing and twitching, at least.

Arc breathed heavily nearby, hands on his knees. Ingus stood stiffly, jaw tight and skin pale.

Monica stood as Arc yanked an icicle from the air and started sucking on it. Everything had grown quiet and still–

A roar shattered the air.

Monica whipped around. She couldn't see anything in the dark, but she knew where that sound came from. The behemoth.

The three looked between each other. "Still think we can take it?" Monica asked.

Arc worked his mouth silently. Ingus nodded. "I think at this point we've scared off the rest of the creatures that considered attacking," Ingus said, "We may as well take out this last beast."

Monica groaned, fumbling with her sword. Could she even still fight?

The voice from before whispered in her head, _I'm always here._

 _Shut up!_ Monica thought back, hissing.

Arc promptly dropped his icicle and rushed over. His face was flushed, likely from fever. He was pushing himself too hard, given his injuries, but rest would have to wait.

Arc's clothes changed again as he moved, this time to white and pink robes.

… With a cat-eared hood?

Monica opted not to question it as Arc's hands lit with a blue glow. He paused once he entered arm's reach and hovered the palm of his hands over her injuries. Monica could smell the blood on him as he approached, and hear the phlegm in his lungs as he breathed. The spell he held in his hands seemed to seep into her very veins as he moved it over her, rushing through her system and soothing her pain. She blinked as her flesh quickly sealed up again, cuts knitting together and blood drying on her skin. "Wow," she said. "That's amazing. Where'd you get a power like that?"

"Crystals," Arc said quickly. "I thought we told you."

Right. Because apparently the stones that chose these guys had a _lot_ more perks than the ones that picked Monica and Max. "Moons," she swore. "All _we_ could do was make houses."

"You what?"

"Oi!" Ingus called. "You would leave me alone here?"

Arc snapped to attention back to Ingus, the blue glow dissipating from his hands. "Right! Coming! Though, I should have you know, my mana's really low..."

Ingus looked at him in disbelief. " _Already?_ "

"I'm sorry! I'm still recovering, and that was a lot of magic just now!"

"Fine. Monica! On my right!"

Monica nodded and followed. And stopped short when a faint glimmer on Ingus' neck caught her eye. Monica grabbed him by the arm. How did she not notice before? "Turn toward me," she said.

Ingus gave her a flat stare.

"No, not just your face! I need to see–"

The roar came again, closer this time, and Monica instinctively lifted her sword. Right. Priorities.

"Arc," Ingus said. "Can you at least use a dagger?"

"Uh…"

"You've been changing jobs again, haven't you?"

Arc nodded sheepishly.

"Use your staff or some arctic winds, then."

Arc nodded. Monica tensed as the beast appeared in the shadows of the forest, fangs exposed in a snarl.

Monica and Max had fought much bigger and more powerful creatures before, but she still couldn't help but feel a little intimidated. Normally, Max would use the ridepod to deal with things this big. The behemoth's eyes were wild with rage, and its paws pounded the earth with the strength of one of Max's hammers. Times a thousand.

"What's it doing here?" Arc asked. "Behemoths don't tend to wander the forest…"

No one had time to answer as the behemoth closed in and Monica and Ingus leaped into action.

Monica took one of the big tusks, latching onto its tip and jumping atop it. It was tall enough that so long as she could hold her grip, she could stay a safe distance from the thing's fangs. An unholy amount of slobber flew her way, but she managed to avoid the worst spots. Ingus looked to be having a harder time, as he was forced to twist around its enormous claws.

She steadied her stance as the beast let out a howl of frustration. It swiped at her, but Monica could see this thing's moves from a mile away. Those large claws didn't move quickly.

"In the eye!" Ingus shouted. "Stab it through!"

Monica rolled her eyes. Did he think she'd never killed creatures like this?

"Here!" Arc said, throwing a blast of ice that exploded around the behemoth's haunches.

Monica wobbled dangerously on the beast's snout, cursing. "Watch where you're aiming!"

The beast lurched, stumbling. She let go of her grip and slid down the tusk, using her momentum to bury her blade in its eye, all the way up to the hilt.

The behemoth growled softly, and collapsed.

"What was that?" Monica asked, pulling out her sword and searching for a way to navigate across the monster's snout. "It was better than most bombs _I've_ worked with!"

"Arctic winds," Arc said, hefting what looked like a block of ice in his hand. "Always want to keep them on hand."

Ingus nimbly scaled the beast's face, joining Monica. The behemoth gave a weak moan, and Monica grimaced, whispering quietly in its language, soothing it as it bled out.

Ingus narrowed his eyes at her, but Monica pretended not to notice. A lot of people didn't understand such things. Even Max thought the time she spent among the fae was strange.

It was a quick death, at least. Slower than she'd intended, but not drawn out.

Silence fell. Monica breathed in, then out. The air felt cold on her skin, a slight breeze chilling her blood-soaked clothing. Ingus kneeled beside her, looking concerned. "You're hurt," he said.

Monica snorted. "Just a scratch. That healing spell of Arc's got most of it. I'm sure it looks worse than it–"

Monica cut off, catching again that glimpse a glittering, tear-drop pendant hanging out from under his collar. She tentatively reached out, causing Ingus to raise and inquisitive eyebrow. She took the jewel in one gloved hand, rubbing the grime off to reveal a glimmering surface.

 _Did he take it from you?_

Monica wordlessly removed her charm from her pocket and let it rest in her hands. Ingus' eyes shot up, looking between the two.

Arc trudged over, casting glances over his shoulder. "Shouldn't we be going now?" he asked.

Ingus nodded and rose, Monica joining him. "We should."

"There were only so many," Monica said as they started walking again. "How did you get that?"

There was a moment of silence. Ingus' eyes darted between her and the road, a look of confusion on his face. "I don't know," he said at length. "I assumed my parents had given it to me."

"May I?" she asked.

Ingus hesitated for a moment, then unlatched the band from his neck. Monica took it and held it together with hers. There were some imperfections in Ingus' stone that weren't in hers, some dark splotches and artifacts inside the gemstone. The shape wasn't as full or skillful as hers, more elongated than it should be. A common mistake made by the jewel smiths, if Monica remembered correctly.

But it looked the _same_.

"You knew your parents well?" she asked.

He shook his head. "None of us chosen by the Crystals had living parents. We were found, alone, on a crashing ship and given to adoptive homes before the Crystals brought us together."

"Clearly this wasn't meant for someone of royal blood," Monica said. "But all the same, there's no way you should have it. My father was the one to introduce the knowledge of mining the deposits down south. He also introduced this special design, to mark all who belonged to his household. These were special to my kingdom. Only we knew how to mine them, and they were usually made in the same general style. And I've found evidence to show that my kingdom exists here or now."

Monica handed him the jewel back. He quickly latched it back on. "You should believe them, when they say you're from the future. It's the only thing that makes sense."

Arc glanced between the two, staff vanishing from his hands. "Ingus–"

"It was found on me after the crash," Ingus said. "Cid didn't tell me anything else."

"What Ruby said–"

"Appears to be true."

"Wait," Monica said. "Ruby? _Ruby?_ You didn't tell me you knew her, too! I've been wondering where she went after we met her!"

"She's gone," Ingus said. "She left with Refia."

"But!" Monica looked frantically between them. "That settles it! You _did_ come from my father's time! You knew him!"

"In a time that no longer exists," he reminded her. "I may have seen his face as a child, but that memory has long since faded from my recollection."

"Who?" Monica asked. "Who took you from your time?"

"If I may," Arc said, fidgeting with his bag. "I have a journal that talks about this exact thing. I think we owe you a bit of catching up." He pulled out a stack of papers.

Ingus gave him a confused look, "What happened to the journal?"

Arc gave a nervous laugh. "I, uh, tripped. And it slipped from my hands. It was old, see, so…"


	14. Chapter 14

_"So you are the Warriors of the Light? The crystals have chosen their champions! We are saved!" -_ Priestess Aria

"We get people every now and again that claim to be the Warriors of Light," Alus said. He'd insisted that Toan call him that instead of "King Alus Restor I" or "Majesty," thank Dran. "And we prefer to try and catch them before they make a scene. The Warriors are my friends, you see, and I'd rather not let their reputation be sullied by troublemakers."

Toan sat at a table with Alus on a large balcony that overlooked the city of Saronia. Given the castle's position at the top of the hill, it had a nice view of the ocean that stretched on for miles and miles beyond what even they could see. Despite the view, however, the summer air was just as stifling up here than it was down there.

Xiao lounged on a cushion provided on a seat by Toan. She was curled up in the shade, breathing slowly. She purred as a gentle breeze ruffled her fur.

The journal rested on Alus' side of the table and Toan couldn't help wondering at how such a little thing had led to him sitting here, seeing this place.

"I understand," Toan said. "I guess they're pretty famous, then?"

Alus nodded. "They saved the world, after all. One tends to become renowned when that happens. Though, it wasn't exactly a grand event. They're well-known here only because I helped them."

"The smaller villages don't know?"

"Not to my knowledge."

Toan felt a twinge of jealousy. Despite that, Arc was still famous, like the people in stories told around the bonfire. People would remember Arc's name for decades, maybe centuries, for doing the exact same thing that Toan did. They would remember him as a hero.

"You said no one's been able to contact him?" Toan asked. Beside him, Xiao shifted in her sleep, so Toan started rubbing her back. She needed her rest.

Alus nodded, taking a sip of tea. "His last letter mentioned a quest with the other Warriors to the other side of the world, to the land from which you came. No one's heard from him since. I've assumed that it's just been hard for him to make contact since he arrived, but I admit that I'm starting to grow a little concerned. It's been weeks, now."

Toan frowned. He came all this way, just to miss Arc because he went to where Toan was?

Alus flipped the journal open, scanning its contents. "And how do I know this isn't a forgery? I think this could all still be an elaborate ruse to earn yourself favors and money. I assume you've seen pictures of Arc, so I can't ask you to describe him. How will you prove to me that this is authentic?"

"I don't care about money or fortune or fame," Toan said quickly. "I didn't expect help coming here, and I can leave without it. I don't care about proving this to you, only about finding my brother and returning him home. No offense."

"Returning him home?" Alus asked, eyes shooting up to lock onto Toan's. His face showed a hint of fear. "You're going to take him away?"

Toan winced. He honestly didn't know _what_ he would do when they finally met. "I was hoping he would at least come visit my village. I just want my mother to see that he's alive."

"But… you won't _keep_ him, will you?"

Toan shook his head. "He has a life here. I honestly doubt that he'll stay in Norune with us."

Alus nodded, looking thoughtful, before returning to the book. "Where did you get this?"

"My father." Toan leaned back against his chair, feeling suddenly tired. "He left it with my mom when he took Arc away."

Alus hummed, closing the book. "I believe you," he announced. "What do you need? We have ships, men, a library… anything you want. I was hoping to get the advice of Arc and his friends on some political matters we're attending to here, so we'll call it even if you manage to find them again."

Toan blinked, hands pausing in stroking Xiao's fur. What _could_ he use? He needed information more than anything else. "Perhaps you could—"

The door opened to admit a petite servant girl with lush brown hair. "Pardon, Majesty," she said, "But we've received urgent news from the coast."

"Yes?" Alus asked, shooting Toan an apologetic look.

"It's a ship, sire. The _Nautilus_. It's been destroyed. We're currently trying to haul it to shore."

"Thanks, Enaim," Alus said, standing. "I'll come oversee it myself. Toan, you'll want to come see this – Arc may be closer than we thought."

* * *

Luneth snapped his eyes open as the ship lurched. Goro also jolted awake, scrambling to keep a hold on the ship. A large rope and tether attached itself to the ship, and Luneth blinked bleary eyes, trying to focus on the large silhouette that now pulled their broken vessel.

Now that the burn of the other power had died, the fatigue returned and Luneth groaned. His stomach hurt from lack of food. Even holding onto the outer hull of what remained of the _Nautilus_ proved challenging.

Luneth hauled himself to his knees, reaching inside for that same power, the one that burned away his need to eat. It sparked to life as Luneth's eyes followed the rope to the their captor's silhouette, which turned out to be another ship just a few yards away.

Voices shouted in the distance and sailors rushed about. The ship attached to them started turning around. Luneth grabbed the pole in the middle of their little wreck with one hand, and took Max with the other. "Hold on!" he shouted.

Goro was two steps ahead of him, securing himself to the same pole.

The remains of the _Nautilus_ jolted again as the other ship righted itself. They then started sailing, leaving a tail of churning water behind them.

"Who are these people?" Goro hissed.

"Saronia," Luneth said, grinning. The ship's mast was emblazoned with the iconic symbol of a bird behind two crossed blades. "It looks like Alus found us."

Goro scowled. "Alus? What's _Alus_?"

Shouts interrupted them, and Luneth looked to see a boy about the same age as Luneth mount the rope and start sliding down, using nothing but his two feet.

Goro gawked and Luneth cocked his head as the figure came closer. He looked strangely familiar, with brown hair and tanned skin, and clothes that closely resembled what the people wore in Norune…

When he got closer, the guy jumped and hit the surface of the _Nautilus_ , feet thudding into the side of the ship. A small cat followed closely behind.

"Toan!" Goro said with a huff. "What took ya so long?"

The guy shrugged, straightening. He looked to be a couple of years older than Luneth. "Sorry. Didn't realize you were coming."

"Darned right, I wasn't coming."

"What changed your mind?"

"I'll tell you later."

The guy then turned to Luneth. "Do you need help?" he asked. "Bandages or anything?"

Luneth pointed at Max. "He does. Got blown up with the ship."

"Hey!" Goro said, tugging at his singed clothes. "So did I!"

"That's nothing!" Luneth retorted. "Look at my face!"

"It's covered in soot," the new guy said, deadpan.

Luneth shook his head and rubbed at his cheek. It stung a little some time ago and he had assumed it'd been hit with a large piece of glass or something. "Not that. See this?"

"It's a scratch," the new guy corrected himself.

"It's an imperfection in your perfect face," Goro said.

Luneth scowled. "Fine. You can taunt me all you want, but when I die from infection, you'll be sorry."

The new guy moved on, kneeling next to Max's unconscious body. "Have you all been drinking?"

" _Drinking_? Do we _look_ like we have—?" Luneth paused. "Oh, _drinking_! Duh, what kind of adventurers do you think we are?"

The guy blinked. "Drinking from what? I don't see any water skins."

Luneth pulled out his flask. "Check this out!" He pulled water from the ocean and distilled it into the flask, finishing with a quick flourish of his wrist. Which Ingus always reprimanded him for, but one had to admit – it was flashy. People got bored watching someone standing there, elements moving on their own. It had to at least _look_ like you were doing something with them.

The guy raised an eyebrow. "Saltwater?"

"No! Idiot! That'll get you killed! This is clean."

"Hey," Goro said. "Got any extra bread, there?"

The guy shook his head. "You three probably shouldn't be eating something that heavy just yet. As soon as we get back, we're going to check you into the medical wing of the palace. They'll know how to get you to eat again without hurting yourself."

Luneth blinked. He hadn't noticed before just how gaunt Goro had become. And he spoke slowly, as if it took effort. But then, if weakened far enough, it _did_ get hard to talk sometimes. Luneth offered him another flask of water. It wouldn't remove the hunger, but it would make it a little more bearable.

The other guy lifted his own bottle of water to Max's mouth, trying to coax a few small sips in. He kept that up for the rest of the hour or so that it took to get the ship docked. The ship that hauled them moved _fast_ – when did Saronia upgrade their ships to be able to sail so smoothly?

After the big ship docked, the sailors disconnected the _Nautilus_ and started towing it into a separate bay. Were they going to try and save the rest of it? Luneth shoved that thought aside as they offered a ramp up to the docking pier. Luneth helped the other guy carry Max while Goro kind of staggered his own way up.

"What was your name again?" Luneth asked.

"Toan."

"Ah, that's right." Where did he know that name again?

"Wait!" Luneth almost dropped the splint. " _Toan_? _The_ Toan? The very guy we've been searching the whole planet for?"

Before he could respond, a squad of medics and white mages soon showed up, stretcher in hand. They guided Luneth and Toan in lying Max on it, before one of them started trying to tie something to Luneth's wrist.

"What?" he protested, "Hey– stop that! I'm perfectly fine!"

A short woman, wearing the robes of a Saronian healer, put her hands on her hips. "You were just stranded in the middle of the ocean for an unknown period of time. We need to give you a check up and least a couple of days of bedrest."

"No! I'm fine! Look at me!" He didn't want to lay confined to a bed, being hand-fed porridge! "Goro, tell them!"

Goro looked between them, eyes wary. "Maybe just a couple of hours."

"Says the one barely standing," said the medic. "You're both checking in for the next twenty-four hours and that's final."

"Says you and what army?" Luneth asked. The other medics carried Max away. "Shouldn't you be more worried about our friend over there?"

"Hey," Toan said. "How about I worry about getting him to check in?"

The woman huffed, but something about Toan's attitude seemed to dissuade her. She shot a glare at Luneth before turning on her heel and hurrying after the rest of the squad. Goro resisted, but the medic appeared to be intent on taking _someone_ , so she dragged him off on his own.

Luneth looked back at Toan and there was a brief, awkward moment of silence as they stared at each other.

All this time, all this searching… Luneth felt like he should have been satisfied, looking Arc's 'real' brother in the face. Instead, he felt almost a little annoyed at how underwhelming this guy was. He was like… Arc, but different. How boring were real siblings? They were just copies of each other in the end. Definitely not worthy of taking Luneth's place.

"You're him," Luneth said flatly.

Toan slowly nodded.

 _Crystals!_ Luneth had _not_ planned on their hunt actually _working_. What in the name of the elements was he supposed to do now? Murder Toan and bury the body? Apparently, they were in it for the long haul, now.

"Behind you," Toan said, pointing.

Someone behind him cleared their throat. Luneth sighed. _Of course_ , he thought turning to see Alus waiting. Luneth suddenly remembered the letter he received all those weeks ago. He was going to have to deal with that now.

"Hey, Alus," Luneth said, scratching sheepishly at his neck. "What's up?"

* * *

Lunatic Wisdom Laboratories, Crest called the place. She wasn't here now, but Refia wanted to tell her she could understand where the name came from. Except for the 'wisdom' part.

Moonlight reflected against the metal bridges and houses and every bolted, metal surface. This place seemed to be made entirely out of metal, from the doors to the signs. It all seemed to be made up of about four structures that rose above the ocean on piers of steel.

Refia held back, rubbing her arms against the wind billowing in from the ocean. It looked so… alien. Of all the places she'd seen in this time, this one definitely won in terms of strangeness.

"Madame Crest," Rufio was saying, "referred to the Red Lab. It's just over the bridge there."

"Thank you," Refia said. "I'll see myself there, then."

Her guide thankfully took the hint and left her to continue forward on her own.

Lights guided her forward, showing her along the path that glowed with a thousand tiny lights, all of different colors.

After some winding around, she stopped just outside the red lab, and its large set of double doors hissed and slid on their own before her to reveal a large room full of trilling and beeping machines.

Workers bustled about inside, wearing strange cloth made from shining, orange material, all lit in the same red that shone from the building's exterior. Every wall was covered in strange contraptions, and chairs lined most sides of the building.

Refia descended a ramp leading to the main floor, scanning the ground for anyone that might match the description Crest had given her. "Excuse me," she said, stopping a passing worker. "Where might I find a… a 'rabbit' by the name of Osmond?"

The orange-clad man hesitated. "Osmond? He's just over there, ma'am."

One of the chairs swiveled in place and large ears, covered in cloth, shot up as a small figure leapt into view. "What now?" he demanded.

"A girl wandered in, sir," the man said, "Said she's looking for you."

"Oh, a girl, now?" Osmond twitched an ear. "And what does she want?"

"The Sage Crest sent me," Refia said, nodding thanks to the other guy, who took the chance to leave. "She said you might have some answers for me."

"Answers, hm?" The rabbit wriggled his nose behind a mask and goggles. Refia couldn't see any of his face. Or any of his body for that matter. It was all hidden behind cloth and metal. But she could imagine his beady eyes narrowing at her. "I guess it depends on the kind of answers. I can't give you solution to your math tests, for example. But most anything else…"

"Can you help me travel back in time?"

"Whoa!" He took a step back. "That's a lot you're asking there! Time travel is banned, you know! Don't say it so loudly!"

"You're speaking louder than I am."

"Says who?" Osmond glanced around the lab. "Here, let's take it somewhere else. Might not be as big a deal, depending on who you are. Would you happen to have some ties to the royal family?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Good, good. We might be okay, then. I do _not_ need a lawsuit on my door tomorrow morning…"

Refia blinked as Osmond jumped from his chair and started waddling up towards the door. "What's a lawsuit?" she asked.

"'What's a _lawsuit_?'" Osmond repeated, gesturing for her to follow. "Lady, how far from the past are you? Lawsuits are the kind of thing people do when they want your hide for something you didn't do. Hire all the lawyers, all the lawmen, all the witnesses, and boom, they have all your money, too."

Refia started up the ramp. "That sounds awful."

"You get used to it. After fifty of them, you learn how to throw the scent off and save yourself from unwanted public embarrassment. What do you say we talk about this somewhere else? I don't want Marcon hearing about this."

"Marcon?"

"Outside! Outside, I say! Follow me."

The door hissed open and he hustled her out. The ocean wind whistled in the trees and Osmond led her along the steel ramps. "Okay, how long ago did you come from?" he asked.

"Er, three hundred years ago? About? Crest wasn't able to get an exact date."

" _Crest_ couldn't? Man, either she's getting old, or there's something wrong with the history books. Did you do anything to her?"

"You think I would—?"

"Nah, you probably wouldn't. Never know, though. Heck, _I've_ had times when I just wanted to kick her knobby legs out and make for the hills." Osmond shook his head. "Okay. To start, let's go consult the computers, get a solid fix on your origin. Don't exactly want you missing a dozen birthdays. Especially when they're not yours. People tend to get a little huffy about that kind of stuff, Griffon knows why. Birthdays kind of lose their excitement after four centuries."

"Four centuries?"

"Just keep asking questions, don'tcha? It's a long story. I'll tell you later. Anyway, I suppose I should welcome you to the labs. Beauty, ain't it? I promise, you'll never find another like it for centuries."

"Uh huh."

* * *

The road was dusty, as were all roads in the southern portion of Blue Terra. Ruby hated traveling in the desert, but given that the white-haired brat ran off with Toan's map, there wasn't exactly any other way to get to Ungaga's place. Instead, she was forced to wander through cresting dunes and gritty sand, all just so she could have a _shot_ at getting a little help.

She hated it. When she passed through Matataki, she discovered the hard way that not everyone sat patiently waiting for the call to adventure to knock at their door. Even Goro wasn't there when she came asking, so the odds of Ungaga being at his house were… not reliable.

Ruby sighed, kicking at the sand. It flew, as all sand did when struck, and Ruby watched it travel a short distance before falling back into dunes. She kicked again.

How could a people of any kind survive out here in the wastes? She'd never seen cities thrive in the dunes, but even the thought of living day to day in this climate left a bad taste in Ruby's mouth. Having to ration _water_ , like it was a precious commodity instead of the thing that covered the world and even threatened death to some cities that made their abode too close to the ocean. Like Queens. Why didn't these desert-dwellers just move further north, come closer to the habitable green lands of Matataki or Patina Bog? There were so many less hideous options to choose from.

Her feet felt gritty, so Ruby stopped for what must have been the hundredth time to shake sand from her slippers. Why the Terra-forsaken _desert_ of all places?

She'd been travelling for a few days now, and already the sun was sinking on another day. The sky lit up in orange and red hues, and the air dropped in temperature. Muska Racka wasn't much farther ahead – Ruby could already make out the silhouettes of their huts – but it was still, what, an hour out? The mirages out here were so deceptive.

Voices carried her way, faint and distant. Ruby smiled. She _was_ close, then. As she came closer, she could make out that they weren't just any voices, either. The voices sang to a tune with a cheerful beat. A celebration?

Ruby picked up her pace, leaping far enough to crest over another dune. A second wind took over and the weariness that plagued her before seemed to vanish. She jumped again and the wind carried her almost to the village doorstep, cooling breeze chilling the sweat dripping down her face and neck.

Huffing, she jogged the short distance left and slid toward the village border, almost losing her footing to the shifting sand. There was no gate or fence, so she was left to walk awkwardly forward with nothing to officially signal her entrance into the village.

Simba's beard, whatever happened to proper greetings and welcomes? She may as well have been a normal peasant for all the attention the dancers and revelers gave her.

The fire was almost as big as some of the hovels here. Ruby paused to watch it, letting the desert folk dance and twirl around her. Queens didn't do bonfires, for some reason. King liked his parties, but they were always so quiet and boring. They would play some card games, smoke a lot, and whisper about upcoming plots in the same manner that some women gossiped.

Here, however, music thumped as big men beat on drums and chorused loudly. It was enough to help Ruby forget her exhaustion and simply _be_ for a few moments.

Living for a thousand years taught her a few things. One of which was the lesson that one should never try to take over a kingdom just because she had the power. It made for angry subjects and a restless populace. Another lesson was to never poke a hamster. Another lesson—more of an entire university's course, really—was how to blend in wherever she went. Civilization and society changed constantly, and she'd been through enough different cultures to learn the languages, speech patterns, and even dance styles of the changing times.

Ruby moved lithely through the spinning crowd. It was a basic, primitive dance. Mostly just a lot of clapping and spinning to a steady beat. It repeated the same, short routine over and over again, so it only took a couple of rounds for Ruby to get it down.

Clap, twirl, clap again, link hands…

A hand grabbed her shoulder and Ruby yelped as someone yanked her from the circle. The circle of dancers barely paused in front of her. "Hey!" she said, turning on her offender.

"Ruby."

She blinked, staring at Ungaga's humorless face. She grinned. "Took you long enough."

"What are you doing here?"

Ruby gingerly removed his hand from her shoulder. Mikara stood nearby, casting them both confused and uncomfortable glances.

"I came to ask for help," Ruby said. "Come on, you know that the moon's missing."

"Now is not the best time."

"Oh? Is there a better time that I can come back and ask for your help in _saving the world_?"

Ungaga hesitated. "Tomorrow."

"Why not tonight?"

"Ruby."

"Terra's bowels, some people can be so self-centered. 'Hello, did you know your village was just destroyed?' 'Yes, I did, thank you very much. But I was going to wait until I finished my bath before I got up and did something about it. Fine, I'll help you now. Here's a _potato cake._ '"

"Ruby."

"And don't think you're off the hook, either. I won't exactly forget about the—"

" _Ruby_. I'm getting _married_."

Wind blew in from the desert expanse, stronger now than it was when Ruby arrived. Was a storm coming in? She leaned over to look at Mikara again, who certainly _was_ dressed pretty well, with some kind of feathers flaring out of her hair and her face done up with makeup that in all honesty was probably borrowed from Jibubu. "Oh," was all that Ruby could think to say.

"What's this, Ungaga?" Chief Bonka asked, appearing at his side, gripping her smoking stick in one hand. Darned tribal people, all knowing how to be almost as stealthy as hunters. "An old flame giving you cold feet?"

"Hello, chief," Ruby said, remembering some rather unpleasant experiences with this woman in some of her alternate memories. "Eat any young adventurers lately?"

Ungaga gave her a warning look, but Bonka just busted out laughing.

"Well," Bonka said, tapping her stick as her mirth subsided. "I'll leave you to it. That cactus juice is being sadly neglected. Please, help Ungaga loosen up, if you can. I'd love for him to develop a sense of humor for once."

"She's friendly tonight," Ruby remarked, watching her walk off. She turned back to Ungaga, holding her hair against the wind. It seemed to be picking up in strength. "Anyway, will you help me?"

Ungaga looked at Mikara, who was making a show of watching the dancers, though she glanced in their direction once or twice. "The timing is poor, I admit."

"But you'll come?"

"Assuming it's necessary."

"Good. That's—" Ruby stopped, glimpsing a strange light appearing in the sky. "—Not a star."

A tiny, man-shaped figure appeared high in the sky, flickering in and out of sight.

It wasn't a storm coming in. Not a sandstorm, at least. There was one more person out there who would have noticed the moon disappear, and in fact probably noticed sooner than any of them.

Ungaga's gaze followed hers and his eye twitched. Ruby could swear she almost _heard_ him think "you've got to be kidding."

"It appears," Ruby said, "you've got one more guest on your hands."


	15. Chapter 15

" _Fear not! Our word is our bond! We shall return!"—_ Ingus

Refia fingered the stone in her hands. It shimmered in the light, casting reflections on the metal walls.

Luna Lab was an interesting place. Refia wasn't sure how much she liked it, but at least she never got bored. She was honestly a little frightened at first. The scientists here looked less like humans and more like creatures from the fae realms. The orange suits could have fooled anyone. That, on top of all the _metal,_ was enough to make Refia wonder if Ruby had sent her to another planet instead of just another time.

The stone turned over again in Refia's hands, catching the light from the whirring machines in the center of the large room. The room she was in looked like a huge ship, being circular and made entirely from metal. This room shined with the same lights that decorated the entirety of this man-made place, making it feel almost like they were in the sun itself. She herself was perched on a balcony of sorts that led down to the main floor via large, "LED-lit" stairs.

It had taken them only weeks to construct the machine that would take Refia back in time. Given that it required months of hard labor to complete a simple flying ship in her time, it came as a shock that she already sat facing a time-traveling invention. Osmond had mentioned something about unused technology and spare pieces, but never explained where he had gotten them from.

"Did they ever explain where it came from?" Osmond asked, waddling up the ground below. He gestured to the stone in her hands.

Refia paused, looking down at it. "No. They just said it was a gift, left for me by someone who knew I would be coming."

"I ran a scan on it," Osmond said, flopping onto the chair beside her, "and I'm allowed to do that, by the way. It dates back hundreds of years, since before the fall of Palm Brinks."

"Palm Brinks?" Refia asked. "I don't know that one yet."

"In your time, sounds like it barely constituted a village. There isn't anything _to_ know, yet. But that crystal shard, now that is something. They say it still has power from when it was chipped off of its mother."

"Its mother? In Palm Brinks?"

"Oh, no. I meant the _time_ of Palm Brinks. Its actual origin appears to be some place in the west in… what was it called again? Ur?"

Refia's blood chilled and she shot Osmond a frantic look. "Ur? The tiny little village on the Floating Continent?"

"Sounds about right."

Not _in_ Ur, then, but next door, in the cave just outside the village border. Refia swallowed, looking back at the piece in her hands. The Wind Crystal. All that remained of the _Wind Crystal_.

 _You'll fix it_ , they whispered in her head. _It'll be fine. Or, you'll make it so that it_ was _fine._ They sounded different than Refia remembered. There was a sense of desperation to their voice that Refia had never known before. Their words were more of a plea than a comfort.

How was she supposed to set this right, to keep Luneth from disappearing? There were no recorded details of why he had gone missing, only that it had _happened_. How could Refia stop something when she didn't know the how or when or why?

"Are you ready for the test drive?" Osmond asked, breaking her reverie. Refia nodded. There wasn't much for her to do this time. Better to get back to where she could make a difference, change things. Get information, if nothing else. Get back to Ingus, Luneth, and Arc, and whomever else they would be with. Who knew what friends they had made. Maybe they still had Ruby. Maybe they were all back in Norune. She didn't know. She wished she did. The Crystals wouldn't tell her, for some reason.

"And by test drive," Osmond added, "I guess I mean the only drive. Can't exactly take anything back once we press the button. It's gonna get a little bumpy, looks like. Simulators estimate some turbulence."

"I think I can handle it."

"Somehow, that's what I thought you'd say. Hey." He grabbed the edge of her fingers as she stood, stopping her. "Enjoy it, will ya? You only get to jump through time so often."

Refia remembered her arrival in the future and grimaced. "I'll do my best."

"Great!" Osmond let her go again and clapped his hands together. "Let's get it fired up. I hope you don't have a weak stomach — thing isn't exactly a time spell. Might see some weird things, lose a couple of inches. Might wanna sign this contract, in case of injury or death. Don't exactly want to get sued again. Machine is just over there when you're done. It's a simple transporter, so there's no weird equipment you need to wear or anything."

Refia hesitated as she finished writing her name. "Transporter?"

"Yeah, it's like one of those booths you'll find at the fair, only with a lot more temporal gadgets and a lot less money. Your descendents will owe me for this, by the way. Line hundred and fifty-two in the contract you just signed. I assume you don't have enough at the moment to pay me, so I'll be generous and give you a half-dozen generations or so to earn up a million gilda. Shouldn't be too hard. Step right up here, please…"

Osmond gestured her toward a round circle on the ground, which was surrounded by black poles. "It only works once," he said as she stepped onto it. "So you better stand in just the right spot. Here, take half a step toward me. I assume you don't want to lose any digits in this? No? Okay, hold your hands tightly to your side. Don't let even a hair fall outside the glowing green circle. Ready?" He held up a device of some sort with a few buttons dotting the surface. "And-"

The lab vanished.

* * *

The cave holding the Wind Crystal was smaller than Sara expected. Or, the walkway was. It was less a room, and more a large cavern with a couple of platforms leading up to each other. It was also empty, thankfully. The Crystal had only summoned Sara and Desch.

"Why us?" Sara asked, pacing around the room, the click of her shoes echoing through the cavern. The ledges made her nervous, as she couldn't see to the bottom, but she was getting used to it. "Why summon us and not the Warriors of Light?"

 _Because they're beyond our reach,_ a voice whispered softly in her mind. _We can speak with them, but can't pull them anywhere._

It was a disorienting feeling, hearing voices in her head, Sara didn't like it. Ingus had spoken of the sensation once or twice, but she didn't think much of it at the time. After all, she wasn't a Warrior of Light. Things like this weren't supposed to happen.

"It's up to us, then?" Sara asked. The Crystals wanted her and Desch to fight against whomever was coming. The thought was a little daunting, the idea of being pitted against a force she knew nothing about. But also comforting in that it meant that Sara had the confidence of her gods.

"Of course it is!"

Sara raised an eyebrow at Desch, who lounged lazily beside the Crystal. He was the one to find her and drag her along, but now he just sat around, waiting for this enemy of the Crystals to show up as if this was some lazy lunch date. Did all Ancients take the fate of the world so lightly?

"How long did you say it might take for him to get here?" Sara asked, still pacing. She hated waiting.

Desch cocked his head in thought. "Honestly, I think I miscalculated because I didn't think we would get here before him. The Crystals can summon those they trust, right?" He directed that last bit to the Crystal itself. "Yeah. They can pull in who they want — that was the big flashy thing that happened to us when I found you — and we were a couple of days behind the perpetrator, so…"

"What?"

"I didn't account for the fact that transportation is instantaneous," Desch said. "It might be a few more hours. Depending on his method of travel. Could also be days. Could be moments."

Sara slumped her shoulders. "That's very helpful, thanks."

"Hey," Desch said with a shrug, "could be worse!"

" _How_?"

"I could be stuck with someone that wasn't drop-dead gorgeous."

Sara wrinkled her nose. Did those words just come out of his mouth? "Thanks, but I'm taken."

"Heh. Ingus?"

Sara didn't deign to answer that. "How _do_ you know Ingus and the others?" she asked instead.

Desch shrugged. "We were about to get eaten by dragons. But then we got out together and I gave them a spell they needed. I must say, good choice. Ingus is a skilled swordsman and red mage. And almost as attractive as I am."

Sara shoved those thoughts away. " _Dragons_?"

"Yup."

Sara continued to pace. Desch hadn't given her enough time to change, so she was stuck in formal slippers that clicked along the stone floor. It was annoying, but it wasn't like stealth was going to make much of a difference here anyway. "You're an Ancient," she said.

Desch furrowed his eyebrows. "Yes, I think I am. It's hard to tell sometimes, though."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"Ah," Desch straightened. "It's a little complicated. But—"

"Excuse me," a rough voice said, interrupting them. Sara froze, shoes silencing as her feet stopped. A man walked slowly forward, clothed in strange, brown robes. "I didn't expect to have company," he said. "This complicates things."

 _Him,_ the Crystals whispered, urgent.

Without another word, Sara charged a wind spell and Desch leaped forward, sword appearing out of nowhere.

The man whipped something into the air that Sara had never seen before. It looked almost like a small, wooden hammer, but when he used it, it made a deafening crack and Desch shouted in alarm, grabbing his side.

What kind of magic was that? Sara never saw anything move.

Sara released a blast of wind at the man, forcing him down with the power of the wind. She started charging a cure.

Desch unleashed a thunder at the same time that the man threw out a purple-tinged version of lightning. The air exploded with light, crackling. Sara loosed her cure on Desch. He stood straighter.

"Thanks!" he called out, whipping the strange device from the man's hands with a slash of his sword. It clattered to the ground and the man pulled a dagger from his belt.

Sara gusted wind along the ground, pushing the strange device toward her. She may not know how to activate that loud noise that it made, but she could at least get it away from him.

Metal sang as Desch engaged the man, blades clanging against each other. Sara powered another cure, ready to heal Desch at a moment's notice. The Crystals knew, there wasn't exactly much else she could do here. Aero would only throw them both off-balance, and it was pretty even-grounded as it was. Better not to risk changing it up.

Who _was_ this man? The magic he used — it wasn't Crystal-borne. Even the air tasted strange after he charged it with his crack of lightning.

The dagger flew from the man's hand and Desch pinned him to the ground, blade against the man's throat. Neither of the two breathed heavily like a normal human being should after such an intense fight, Sara noted. She changed her cure to another aero.

"Who are you?" Desch asked, voice low and harsh. All sense of his easy-going self from before had vanished. "And what are you doing here?"

The man laid limp beneath him, staring lazily back up. He glanced to Sara and she bit her tongue against a flinch. His eyes were hard and blood-red. "This is pointless," the man said, voice echoing, as if there were two people speaking at once. He raised a hand and light burst forth, blinding Sara and forcing her to drop her spell as her hands flew to cover her eyes.

Desch cried out, but Sara couldn't see why. She started, pulling a knife from her boot. She had a feeling that using the air might not work against this man.

Booted steps came closer and she tensed, pointing her dagger despite her eyes being tightly closed. The steps paused. "You really think—?" the double-voice started.

She interrupted him with a slash. Her vision cleared just slightly as she opened her eyes again, but she still stumbled, barely grazing his chest. He didn't react, even as his coat turned red. He slapped the dagger from her hand and grabbed her by the throat.

Sara choked.

"Stupid girl," he said, smirking as though her attack _amused_ him, even as his grip tightened. "Did you really think, after last time, that you could do anything to stop this? This is a war of the gods, not a silly dispute between nations."

Sara strained against the man's hands, gasping desperately for air.

"I'll admit," he continued, "You've managed to prove an annoyance. I will allow you some credit. Not everyone has the guts to charge in, armed with nothing but the wind. But you're still nothing compared to some of the other rats on my tail."

She needed to speak, to chant, to heal herself. But that was impossible without the use of her voice.

"How silly," the man said. "You remind me a lot of those children I had to take out the other day. I think you know them. In this land, they're called 'Protectors of the Crystals.' Cruel, isn't it? Titles made up to give courage to infants, to make up for them being forced to fight a losing battle. They're not even here now, and there's nothing they can do to save these overgrown chunks of rock."

Ingus. Sara made a strangled sound. "In—!"

"Don't worry about them," he said, constricting his grip further and cutting her off. "They're not dead, unfortunately. If I'd had just a little longer, I could have gotten rid of Ingus for good. But alas."

He released her then, throwing her to the ground with impossible force. She hit stone and rolled a short way, arms crunching beneath her. She screamed, pain flaring in both those arms. One of them was broken.

She breathed for a moment, part of her expecting to topple into the abyss below her. She didn't.

"Don't worry," the man said. "The pain won't last long. Soon, the Void will swallow everything, and then you won't feel a thing. Not pain, not fear, not sorrow. Just as it should be. I can't understand why humans won't accept their fate…"

Sara gasped out some words to a chant and a weak cure sprung to life in her unbroken arm. The man didn't seem to care. He only took a long, hard look at the Wind Crystal, hands clasped behind him. Sara choked out a sob as she pressed the cure to her broken arm. The burning pain subsided a little, but the cure was too weak to get rid of it. She managed a few more words before the air shattered with a bang and something bit her leg.

"Silence!" the man snapped. "This moment is very important."

Sara could only stare dumbly at the bleeding hole in her leg, chest heaving with silent breaths. She felt light-headed, and a little bit sick. She glanced between the man and her leg, her head feeling ten pounds heavier. Her leg was strangely numb. Where was Desch?

 _Is this what he felt?_ She thought absently. _That's a lot of blood._ It felt so surreal, that she was here, right now. That she was dying. She could have stayed in Sasune, or in Ur. The odds of her coming right here, at the same time that this madman with a strange weapon would come… they weren't exactly large. How did it happen like this?

She looked to the Crystal. The man touched it with a bare palm, his glove removed. The light in the room seemed to flicker, then it started to die. She glanced about as the light faded. Desch lay motionless on the other side of the room. The entire platform was strewn with broken rock.

 _I'm sorry,_ she thought as she tried another cure. Her tongue felt thick and the words caught in her throat. _Crystals, I guess you made a mistake depending on us._

* * *

Osmond's device _threw_ Refia through space.

Her vision blurred and, much like before, she thought she could see the moon and all the stars in their entirety for just a moment before blinding, golden sunlight filled her vision and Refia slammed into a stone wall.

"Ow…"

She blinked spots out of her vision, and held close to the wall, using it to steady her against the disorientation caused by the trip. Crystal voices rushed into her head, blending together into a cacophony of panic. Refia couldn't make out their words.

Stumbling in the wave of dizziness caused by her trip, Refia realized she'd landed in a large city. People milled around her, chattering aimlessly and pushing carts full of produce and other market goods. Some bore insignias on their chests, depicting a bird behind crossed blades.

Saronia.

Refia trudged along despite the stars in her eyes and the churning in her stomach. Now that she knew where she was, she had to get to the Cave of Tides. The connection to the Crystals proved difficult to decipher for another moment as they readjusted to her, but after a moment Refia could catch mentions of Ingus and Arc. They were close, and on the way here.

Fingers straining against the wall, Refia stopped a passing pedestrian. "Pardon me," she said, trying to stand just a hair straighter. It was a dark-skinned, gaunt man, looking to be in his late 30s with a big _bush_ of hair on his head. "Do you know where I can board a ship for Amur?"

"Amur? Pardon me, but you barely look fit to stand! Perhaps I can arrange for a room at an inn?"

"No," she said, teeth gritting. "I need a ship, and I need it now. And a side of numbing herbs might also be appreciated."

The Crystals had pinpointed the Cave of Tides to be the point where Luneth disappeared. If Osmond's calculations were correct, then this was Saronia. She'd honestly not spent enough time in the place to be able to differentiate it from Sasune given just one street, but if this _was_ Saronia, she would have to remember how exactly to get to the Cave.

The Crystals quickly filled in.

 _You're in the western sect of Saronia. The Cloud, it's coming! Get to the maze, just outside the Crystal Tower!_

"Not this time," Refia said quietly, accepting a bottle of medication from the man. Just to be safe, she was gonna wait on using it until she was out of the city. _What's wrong?_

"Luneth. He disappears in the Cave of Tides, keeping Wind from reviving. If we don't stop that, then there's no point in even fighting this guy. It's better that we just try to corner him in the Cave."

The guy seemed rather confused, but Refia didn't have _time_ to explain why she was talking to herself. She slowly made her way through the streets despite the weakness in her legs and the pounding in her head. She wobbled a lot, and more tradesmen and travelers tried stopping her, some offering more medicine, money to find an inn, or a ride. She just ignored them, using a couple of well-timed spells to show that she was still plenty capable of defending herself.

"Update?" Refia asked.

 _The others are on their way. Ingus and Arc are approaching the fastest, but we don't know if they'll make it in time. Luneth and his friends are held up in Saronia, caring for an injured Crystal-bearer._

"Crystal bearer?" she repeated, finding the docks. The ship she needed was ready to depart soon.

 _Not a Warrior, but one who was chosen to wield select powers as bestowed upon them by the Atlamillia, our sisters. There are—_

"More than just you Crystals," Refia finished. "Crest explained to me. From the future. How are my friends?"

 _Arc is still recovering, but he's stabile. Ingus is better. Luneth… is getting hard to see._

"What does that mean?" Some of the sailors looked at her weird. Refia ignored them, but stopped talking out loud. _What's he doing?_

 _He's discovering who he really is. It was risky to choose such a one as him, but we had no choice. He's giving in to his fae side, which puts him out of our reach and into the control of the fae realm._

 _Are the fae bad?_

 _No. But they're completely separate from us. It's not often that we work together, even in matters like this._

So there _was_ something wrong with Luneth. Refia sighed, taking her cot inside the ship. Maybe it would have been better to stay awake and try to get more information from the Crystals, but she was _so tired_. _I'm going to sleep, I think. I need to rest._

 _Very well._ The rest of their words swam in Refia's ears as she stopped focusing and sleep took over almost faster than she could shut her eyes.


	16. Chapter 16

_"We are the Cloud of Darkness... We have come to return the world to the Void, to nothingness... We shall engulf everything in our shadow... And both light and darkness will return to the Void."_ \- Cloud of Darkness

The Wind Crystal went down while they were sleeping.

Ingus woke in a cold sweat, hands grasping for nothing. _Sara_ , the Crystals whispered. _And Desch. We must tend to them once the cloud clears._

Ingus gulped down a breath, wrenching his eyes to the side, where Monica and Arc filled his view. Monica was sleeping, breathing rhythmically. Arc muttered quietly and incoherently as he sat on watch. He gripped his head, and curled in on himself.

That invisible pain, pounding in his chest and head. He felt it, too.

Ingus rose and crawled closer, grabbing Arc's arm in an attempt to anchor him back to reality. Arc responded instantly, wide eyes snapping to Ingus'. Ingus nodded toward Monica. _Don't want to wake her_. Arc took the hint, stilling, and Ingus inched closer, taking a seat beside him.

"That was it," Arc whispered, voice edged with panic. "Our home, the darkness…"

The Floating Continent would be flooded by now. Ur and Canaan — had time for them stopped already? It would be better if they had, if Sara really was injured like he saw in his dream. Time freezing would mean she remained stuck as she was and therefore incapable of bleeding to death.

Ingus tried _very_ hard not to think about that.

"As soon as Monica wakes up, we move," Ingus said. "And we don't stop until we reach Queens and secure passage to the other continent. This isn't about Luneth anymore."

Arc frowned. "Was it ever about Luneth?"

Ingus grimaced. They hadn't heard anything from the other two Warriors in several days now, and he'd honestly almost forgotten about them in the panic of trying to deal with the Cloud. "I suppose not."

"The others could be fighting, fulfilling their duties without us, Ingus. What kind of Light Warriors are we?"

"The kind that's doing our best with the hand that we've been dealt."

Arc coughed into his sleeve and sniffled. "It's a pretty lousy hand, isn't it?"

Ingus silently nodded.

"What if we don't make it in time? What if someone else is hurt?"

"Then we move on."

"Like with Aria?" Arc whispered.

Ingus nodded.

Arc didn't look very reassured. He buried his head in his arms. "I'm sorry I made you sleep," Arc said into his arms, voice muffled.

Ingus started. He'd almost forgotten about that. "Why?"

"Aren't you mad?"

"No."

"Oh. Not even a little?"

Ingus hesitated. "I supposed it was a little… inconvenient. Thanks to our delay, we were attacked, so I could thus blame my injuries on your spell."

Arc curled further in on himself.

"But," Ingus continued, "it was for the best in the end. We met up with another of the Crystal's chosen, after all."

"Wouldn't Monica would have caught up to us regardless?" Arc asked.

"I would have what?" Monica asked from behind them.

Great. Ingus was hoping she would remain sleeping. "Another Crystal fell," Ingus said, standing. "Exactly as we feared."

"Is it that bad?" Monica asked. "Didn't you say you can save them once you get there?"

Ingus shook his head. "Perhaps not, if all four perish. We've never experienced that before."

Monica bit her lip. "Should we go, then?"

Ingus debated. Rest was precious, especially if Arc was still as sick as his glassy eyes indicated. But they were running out of time. They could sleep once they'd reached Queens and boarded the ship bound for Saronia. "Yes. We should go now."

Monica started immediately, gathering up camp. Arc followed suit, grabbing his things. Monica hadn't slept well — Ingus could see it in the way her eyes showed red in the low light of the moon.

"Shall we?" she asked.

Ingus nodded, and started walking back toward the road. Despite what the conversation with Arc, he couldn't help but… worry. Even with their new allies, the Genie wasn't to be taken lightly and Arc's concerns were far from unfounded. The thought of losing Sara or any of the other two made sent chills down his spine. He didn't often think of it, given that his experience and learning that worrying was a very fruitless endeavor.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that they'd missed something important.

* * *

Max blinked open bleary eyes to see white and gold drapes hung against large windows, set in white-painted walls trimmed in glittering gold at the bottom and top. Combined with the soft sunlight streaming in dusty beams through the window frames, it made the room very _bright_.

The air smelled like herbs and alcohol. A _lot_ of alcohol. Like when Max would fall as a kid, and his father would pour the stuff on Max's scrapes before applying bandages. Max remembered it hurting worse when his father treated the wound than the injury itself.

Max's shoulder ached the worst of anything, and he coaxed his thin blanket off to look. He tugged on the neck of his new clothes — which looked a lot like robes — to reveal a very red and gnarly patch of skin. He checked the other places where he thought he was hit, like his ankle, elbow joint, lower torso… the wood and metal had all been removed and fresh scabs had already healed over where they used to be. The burns and blisters had died down considerably.

How long was he asleep? He last remembered unfamiliar faces, rushing him away after he had passed out on the ship. That time was in the middle of the day, and now it was approaching evening. Or was it morning? It could have been anywhere from a few hours to a few days ago.

Max struggled into a sitting position with a grunt, limbs protesting the movement. A cup of water sat on his bedside table, clear and inviting.

He reached out to take it, though his hands struggled finding the strength to grip it. After a bit of finagling, he managed to get a sip, enjoying the cool sensation of it on his tongue. It tasted clean and refreshing. When was the last time he had clean water? He couldn't remember. His memories of the ship and everything surrounding it were foggy, fleeting like morning mists. He could see Luneth, Goro, and endless ocean. Before that, Flotsam was there, and then…

Metal in his shoulder, wood in his torso. He was filled with shrapnel and bleeding. Bleeding into the ocean. Luneth… Luneth had cast something. Healing magic? Was that possible? Even Monica had never done anything like that.

His limbs ached, remembering where they'd been stabbed clean through. And yet he was alive. He shouldn't have been, but he was.

The sensation was strangely familiar.

Max slid from his bed and stood. He wobbled, legs feeling like wet noodles beneath him and strangely exposed in what was apparently a robe that his healers dressed him in. The room was warm even without the blanket. Max hobbled toward the window, gritting his teeth against the sudden nausea that came with standing.

This room was several stories in the air, allowing for a broad view of some bustling streets below him. It looked like he'd stepped years into the past, given all the plate-clad soldiers and robe-wearing pedestrians. Was this the dark ages? And what was with the huge, golden chickens parading in the streets, clad in steel armor?

"I'm in another world," Max whispered to himself. "I died and this is the other side."

His voice, though quiet, echoed through the empty room, bouncing off the vaulted ceiling. Why put him here? It seemed like the room was more for decoration instead of healing people, with how pristine the floors and walls were. They all but sparkled in the sunlight.

Max couldn't find his bag, but at the side of his bed, he found all of his things, some a little worse for wear. A couple of his tools were blackened and most of his rations had crumbled to dust, but he still had one loaf of bread and all his weapons and gems. That would be enough.

The halls outside were long and branched out in all directions. Max hesitated outside his room, swallowing. Someone walked by, casting him a weird look.

What if he got lost? How was he supposed to find the way out? "Excuse me," he said, stopping a passing girl in plain robes. "I'm looking for my friends, a white-haired kid about my age and a stout guy wearing a bear?"

"Ah, yes!" the girl said. "They're currently speaking with the king. If you take a right down that way, and then a left, then another left, then a right, and another left, you'll find the throne room. Can't miss it!"

"Thanks," Max said slowly, retracing the pattern in his head as the girl rushed off with a giggle. She couldn't have been older than twelve. Max quickly regretted sending her away so soon as he walked in the direction she'd indicated, struggling to remember exactly which way to turn. First it was a right… then… left? Max laughed nervously as he passed another person, this one an older man. "Sorry," he said. "Where can I find the throne room?"

"That way," the man pointed on. "Just keep going."

Max nodded in thanks. This looked like it could be more complicated than he was anticipating. He kept stopping people, asking each one for directions, and for the most part they all added up. The room ended up being at the end of a hallway that kept going for ages until it reached a large set of double doors, engraven with various images and symbols that meant nothing to Max.

Voices spoke inside, some urgent, others not so much; Max couldn't make out the words. He hesitated before the door. What was he supposed to do? Have someone else let him in? No one thought it was weird that he looked for it on his own, so perhaps he could just walk in?

Shrugging to himself, Max knocked.

"Enter!" a child's voice responded.

The door creaked open into a vast room, with the same towering windows from the hospital room — only these ones were inlaid with various, stained colors — and lush, red carpet leading up to a throne toward the back. Wooden chairs lined the walls to the sides, though few were occupied at the moment. A couple of guards stood ready at the door, with some more at the throne's side.

Luneth, Goro, and another guy with a green hat were conversing with a kid that wore finely tailored robes and relaxed against the throne that was three times his size. The kid wore a fitted crown, inlaid with various jewels and didn't seem to notice Max entering, being too caught up in the conversation to look his way.

"… Coming up very fast," Luneth was saying. "We don't know what's going to happen within the next few weeks, and by the time we finish, it might be too late! It's already covered the Floating Continent!"

"We've already survived one instance of this," the kid replied. "There's nothing for us across the ocean. Even if time _was_ frozen, I could argue it would be worse to find new lives for all of my people in a foreign land. There are setbacks, yes—"

" _Setbacks?_ Alus, it may as well be the end of their _lives_!"

"Don't be so dramatic. I've known ten years with it and it's not so bad as all that. This isn't Xande, after all."

"No, it's _worse_! You idiot, it could be a _thousand_ years this time! Xande was a wimp! This is the _Void_ we're talking about, not a whiny immortal with a chip on his shoulder! If he gets any further, we lose the _world_! The problem upstairs is bad enough by itself!"

The kid waved a dismissive hand. "Cloud of Darkness, Dark Genie, they're the same thing, and we beat it last time! How is this different?"

Luneth sighed in disgust. "It's not as simple as just _fixing_ it!"

"Luneth, please. I'll send reinforcement and supplies, if that helps. We're still on the same side!"

"That's not good enough!"

Max cleared his throat, stepping a little further forward. They finally stopped, all heads turning to look at him like he was a dead fly hanging off the wall. Like they'd forgotten about him. "Hey," he said, gesturing to his robe. "I can't exactly travel very easily in this. Can I maybe get another pair of overalls?"

The king and Luneth glanced at each other. Goro grunted. The green hat guy looked expectantly at the king.

"It's true," Goro said. "He looks like a girl with those. Allow the man some dignity, especially if he's gonna get himself killed."

"Hey!" Max protested. "Who says I'm going to die?"

"Your face does," Goro said.

"My what?"

"It screams naivety more than a house cat sent into the wild."

The cat by the guy in the green hat hissed.

"Either way," Green Hat said, "we need to get going, now that Max is awake. Where can we find supplies?"

"I've prepared a room for you to look through." The king gestured and one of the guards stepped forward. "Ron will take you there. Bring what you need, leave what would become unnecessary baggage. Luneth."

Luneth paused, glaring.

"I trust you," the king said, ignoring the blatant hostility directed his way. "And I will do my best to heed your counsel, but I make no promises."

Luneth turned away again, muttering. Max only caught the words "waste" and "privileged."

"So," Max said. "Uh, clothes?"

"Ah," the king said, "of course. Enaim will take you to be outfitted. We have the finest selection of leather and armor available, if you so wish. Is there anything in particular you would like to request? There are some materials I may have to order in from one of my vassals."

"I don't know about leather," Max said. "But I don't suppose you would happen to have any denim, would you?"

"Denim?" Goro repeated. "What in Jurak's nostrils is he babbling about?"

Everyone else shook their head. Max took the hint. "Okay, that's fine. I guess I'll go see what else you have, then…"

* * *

In all his time adventuring, Max never imagined a time would come where _he_ would be the mysterious kid from the future.

Granted, even if he _had_ imagined it, the image would have turned out nothing like this. He stood in front of a shop run by a haggard old woman in a patchwork dress. Despite her comely appearance, the shop itself was well—stocked, full of strange concoctions that Max couldn't begin to place the origins of. Potions, blue like the ones that Luneth had, lined every wall, alongside other bottles carrying differently—colored liquids.

At least, Max _assumed_ those were potions. Words were kind of hard to read on this side of the world—the characters were all the same, but they wrote it in a strange way, with the tails of every letter connecting and creating a constant steam that he had to squint to make out.

He hadn't really thought about it much, back when he was with Monica. It felt almost like she was the shield, the face between him and this strange world. She already knew how to incorporate herself into a different time, so she automatically took charge when interacting with the people here.

But now that it was just Max and his new friends, all of whom belonged to this period even if they all came from different places, _he_ was the fish out of water. It was kind of cool, in some ways. If he had the time right, then he knew a lot more about what would happen than anyone currently living. Well… he knew a _little_ more. Palm Brinks had been cut off for so long, they had lost a lot of the history connected with the rest of the world.

Max leaned down to look at the bottles on the shelf. The way they caught the light was just a little dulled, compared to most of the bottles they used in his mansion. "Are none of these made with crystal?" he asked. "It's thinner, would take up less space."

The woman choked. "Son, you think I would stoop so low to sell my wares?"

"What? Is crystal cheap here?"

"Exactly what land do you hail from, child? How can you _not_ know about the Crystals!"

Max shook his head. "I actually just came from across the ocean, from a city called Queens. Do you know it?"

The woman shook her head. "I've heard stories of the boundless ocean, but ships going between have only just started sailing again! Where do you think an old woman like myself would find the money?"

"Oh. I'm sorry—"

She waved a hand. "No, no. It's nothing. I don't care for none of that foreign stuff, anyway. It's just a fad."

Max nodded. He didn't understand the idea of not wanting to travel, but he let it lie. "You have me curious," he said instead. "What's wrong with crystal?"

"Blasphemy!" she said. "That's what it is! Making something out of that stuff, it's just not right. Not natural."

"Not natural?"

The woman scoffed. "The Crystals, child! They guard us, protect us, elect and power warriors to save us from the Darkness, and yet…" She clucked her tongue. "The thought that someone might use their very same substance for everyday wares. It's quite disturbing."

 _Local deity_? Max wondered, straightening.

He froze, a strange feeling tickling his spine. There was someone here. Were they followed? Was it Flagg, the guy that Goro talked about? "I understand," he said. He needed to talk to the others, scope out the area.

"Good," the woman said, looking strangely satisfied, like she just won an argument. "Now, I recommend not asking that question too often. People here, they might start wondering. It's not often someone comes in, asking about such things."

"Thanks for the advice," Max said, turning to leave. "I'll be careful."

Luneth and Toan were hanging close to a food shop and Luneth was gesturing wildly. Toan followed his finger to look at places, confusion crossing his features. Xiao and Goro weren't anywhere to be seen.

Max quickened his step. Flotsam was dead theoretically, but he couldn't shake that feeling of two eyes watching him.

"Hey!" Max called, coming over. "Luneth, I have a question."

"Okay," Luneth said, turning to face him. "Shoot."

"Do you worship crystals?"

Toan raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. "Interesting," he said. "I know a people that deify a big tree, but I've yet to see one does that to rocks."

Luneth shrugged. "Some do. For me, they're more like my boss. I don't build altars or anything, but I have friends that do. I just do what they tell me and get sweet goods from it."

Max nodded. "And because of that, you don't use crystal?"

"Well… it depends. If you ask Refia, she'll say that what we call crystal is actually completely unrelated to them in the… what was the word she used? Structure? Composition? Something like that. But some consider the correlation to make crystalware a little disrespectful."

"Interesting," Max said, pulling out a notepad.

"What's that?" Toan asked.

Max gestured with his pen. "I've been taking notes of everything I have to tell my dad when I get back."

Luneth perked up. "You won't tell your mom?"

Toan suddenly took that chance to distract himself with another stand some distance off. Max shook his head. He hesitated in writing the rest of the note, a surge of bitter memories washing over him. "Our relationship is kinda complicated. She came from a different time than us and decided that the life she'd had before was more important to her. So she left."

Luneth grabbed Max's shoulder, shaking his head. "I get it. That's tough, man. I never knew my parents, either. But the ones I have now are better than my real parents could ever be, wherever they are."

Max nodded, jotting down the rest of his notes and pushing down the memory of his meeting with Mom. "Right."

* * *

Luneth loved Saronia.

Specifically, he loved the prices in Saronia. Merchandise here was marked much further down than in smaller places like Ur and Kazus. Most anything he needed, he could get without spending more than a thousand gil.

He purchased some potions, ethers, and the like from a familiar old woman, then stopped by a weaponry to get his swords sharpened. People greeted him like old friends, and spoke without the strange accents that they used across the ocean in the strange world of the East.

Max and Toan were off doing their own thing, buying what they needed with the coins Luneth had loaned them. It might take some searching, but there wasn't anything they could possibly need that Saronia didn't have. The place was like an unlimited collection of goods.

Like, _actually_ unlimited.

As long as he had the money, of course. If only being Alus' friend made all those goods free. That would be even _better_ than cheap.

"Hey," Max said, grabbing him by the arm. "Do you feel that?"

Luneth gave him a look. "Feel what?"

"There's someone here."

Pause. Luneth Sensed, reaching out with his mind to taste the air. There was something here, yes. Max wasn't wrong. But Luneth didn't immediately find anything necessarily—

Dark. No, not dark. _Void_. It smelled like the Cloud of Darkness, like nothingness that stretched on for forever.

"You're right," Luneth said, pulling at—

Nothing. His sword didn't come to him. Luneth gaped, looking at his empty hand, before snapping back to the present moment. "Clear the plaza!" Luneth shouted. "Everyone, get out! Get out, now!"

No one listened at first. Max gave him a strange look. "Is it really so—?"

Luneth raised his voice further "GET OUT, ALL OF YOU!"

There was a brief moment of stunned silent before he could hear the murmurings of "Warrior of Light" rippling through and realization dawned. Luneth still wore the seal granted him by Alus, which didn't give him free potions. But it _did_ tell people that he had much the same authority as the king, and if he gave an order, then they'd better fulfill it.

Commotion. People scrambled to pack and leave, creating a churning mass of people. In a matter of moments, the throng parted enough to reveal a still figure in a swishing black cloak. Hidden under a large helmet, a shadowed face stared back at Luneth. Armor scaled the figure's body, pitch-black in color and lined in gold.

Luneth made his way through the dissipating crowd. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Twin swords hung from the stranger's hips, scarlet red and streaked with black. They remained idle as he watched Luneth.

"Why are you here?" Luneth asked.

Beside him, Max fell into place, wrench appearing in his hands.

Still nothing. A shiver ran up Luneth's spine, reminding him of haunted caves and tainted fae realms. _Darkness._

"We beat you back once!" he reminded it. "Do you honestly think you can try the same thing again? Xande is gone! Whoever your puppet is now, he's not going to do what you want! Not while we have anything to say about it!"

"Heh," the stranger finally said, voice deep and echoing. He then flashed out of sight.

Luneth started, grabbing for his swords again before—

Pain exploded in his back and Luneth plunged to the ground as the world suddenly blacked out.

* * *

Luneth dropped. Where did the knight _come from_? Max started, diving away.

The knight lunged. _Fast!_ Max dashed through abandoned stands and around screaming pedestrians. "Run!" he shouted, twisting between shops and stands. As long as he could at least keep this guy distracted, then maybe they could at least give the market-goers enough time to escape.

Max's heart raced; at the speed he was going at, any minute now he would probably crash into something and die via red, slicey death.

He spun, launching himself at the knight, but was easily rebuffed. Max ran again just as the knight nicked his shirt with a slash of his blade.

He definitely couldn't keep this up for long. Every time he tried to fight back, the knight forced him back. Where was Toan?

It was just his gun for now, then. Max leveled his Starbreaker and fired. Thankfully the plaza had mostly emptied out now, thanks to people generally preferring to keep their head instead of their wares, so if the bullets missed there wasn't as much of a concern about them hitting civilians instead. Max emptied the cartridge, but only a couple of his shots hit, ringing off against the knight's armor. The knight flashed out of the way of most of the bullets so fast that he blurred in Max's vision.

Was this guy even _human_?

More footsteps sounded down the twisting aisles of the plaza.

Max yelped when the blades came down again, one of them cutting into his shoulder. Max buckled and rolled away.

"Toan!" he shouted, catching a glimpse of his orange-clad friend as his clothes grew wet with blood. "Toan, help!"

Toan hesitated, looking between the two while Goro appeared and charged the creature. That gave Max a chance to back further away and catch his breath.

"Aga?" Toan asked, "… Father?"

Max stumbled—and crashed into a food stand.

Silence fell for a moment as Max regained sense of his surroundings. He was buried in fruit up to his ears, his legs went numb from the impact, and his head swam, but he—miraculously—wasn't dead. In fact, the knight wasn't even near him. Instead, he fought with Goro some distance from Toan, who quickly joined the fray. Xiao hung back and hissed, back arching.

"What?" Max asked of no one in particular. " _What_?"

He stood, wiping fruit juice from his clothes. He said again, " _What_?"

"I know it's you!" Toan continued, raising his voice even as he danced in and out of range of the knight's attacks. Goro struggled to keep up with the two. What was Toan _talking_ about? "You don't have to do this!" he continued.

Max slapped one side of his face. Maybe the blast of the bullets did more damage to his ears than he had realized. This didn't make any sense.

"Aga—"

The knight flashed again out of sight again for a split second before kicking out Toan's knees. The cat retaliated, leaping at the knight. But the knight promptly threw her to the side.

Toan stumbled backward, crashing into a stand.

Max screamed, charging in. The knight took Goro through the leg, then charged at Max, ramming the butt of his sword into Max's stomach.

Pain exploded in his torso as the wind left Max's lungs. He crumpled and his head hit something hard.

* * *

The seagulls had gone silent. Luneth cracked an eye open, but the world refused to come into focus. The knight was little more than a looming shadow, and his friends were blurry lumps sprawled over the plaza. The knight started to advance on Toan's crumpled form.

Luneth dug his fingers into the wood, feeling splinters cutting into his hand. A small blur shifted by Toan—Xiao. She was moving to stand between him and the knight.

 _You can't help him,_ Luneth thought, gritting his teeth against the blazing pain in his side, _you can't fight. You don't have the power._

But… _he_ did. The heat inside his heart, the heat that pushed aside his Crystal light, that burned away his need to eat and sleep—that heat was still repressed, but now pushed for freedom. And it didn't feel contained like the crystal's power did. It felt like it could be shared. Like it _wanted_ to be shared.

He reached for that heat, and felt the last of the Crystal's light fade, sealed away somewhere deep inside. The pain dimmed, and the world came into focus.

He climbed to his feet. The knight paused, and turned toward him. A pinprick of red glowed behind his visor, and he growled, the sound reverberating through the wood beneath their feet and giving rise to a sickening feeling in Luneth's gut.

A blade flashed parallel to his eyes. Luneth watched the metal warp in front of his face, twisting like a drop of blood hitting pure water, seemingly incapable of even touching Luneth. Though it sprayed shrapnel in a ring around him.

Well. He wasn't sure what did that, but he wasn't going to complain. As the knight threw aside his useless sword, Luneth called power to his fingertips, and _threw_ it.

It flowed over the knight, warping just like how the blade had.

That echoing growl got louder, and suddenly Luneth understood his opponent's frustration.

They couldn't touch each other.

The knight spun on his heel, stomping back toward Toan.

Luneth tried to summon a shield. Glowing, gold energy formed in front of the knight, but he walked right through it. It didn't even give him pause. The energy parted around him, flowing like honey. It dispersed.

Xiao stepped in. The knight kicked her aside, raising his blade above Toan. Xiao landed with a small thud across the street.

The world was going out of focus again. Luneth felt like he was floating. He wasn't going to be able to stay on his feet much longer.

Feet. Heh. So many people lying down, but not him. And not the knight in front of him.

The knight. He was surrounded by a _cloud_ , a dark fog around his person.

Luneth shook his head. _Focus_. He called more power to his fingertips, and it gathered like a swarm of fireflies—there seemed to be an endless supply just out of sight, hidden in the sky and beneath his feet. He was only limited by how much he could hold at once.

He didn't know how he was doing it, though. Barely even knew _what_ he was doing. It all came instinctively.

But he knew what he _wanted_ to do. He pushed the energy outward, into every living thing nearby. If they had this power too, then the knight and its cloud wouldn't be able to touch them—

But it didn't stick.

Something screamed.

Was it him?

He was on his knees now. Wasn't sure when that happened. His sight pulsed, but a small breath and bit of energy held the pain at bay. He felt a… fast-fading link…

The cat.

The power evaporated when it flowed into the fallen people.

But in the cat, it had _caught_.

Now a girl with furry ears and a bell on her neck stood above Toan, holding the knight's sword. She promptly tossed the blade away and stood ready with clawed hands.

Something was… wriggling… inside that armor. Struggling. The world was getting darker. The armor took a forced step forward, and the cat braced herself.

The cloud thinned into mist.

The knight turned around. And ran away.

Luneth straightened, struggling to his feet. Toan and the cat—turned—girl were fine. And the knight was gone. _Mixed fortunes_ , he thought. Would have been nice to get rid of the knight for good. But he supposed that would yet prove a little difficult.

He had to get… down. Down? Down from where? He had to get over _there_ , to where Toan was lying. He just had to put one foot in front of the other and _move_!

Luneth cried out in frustration as his limbs protested. Like his body didn't want to walk. Why wouldn't it?!

 _Because that's not the way you travel._

Luneth remembered Ruby and the way she had glided through the air. Why did _that_ feel right?

 _Shock_ , he told himself. Though it felt like swimming through tree sap, he forced himself to his feet. His limbs resisted, trying to do something _other_ , but conceded.

He moved forward and crouched beside Toan. His mana felt dry in his veins, but the cut in his friend's chest didn't look too serious. He pulled a potion from his bag—thank Odin he got all his supplies _before_ the Cloud decided to show up—and propped up Toan's head.

"What are you doing?" Xiao asked, kneeling next to him. "What is that?"

She looked different. As he should have expected, given she was no longer a cat. She wore a long tunic now, with traveling shoes and black, knee-length leggings. Definitely Norune fashion. Strange, that whatever transformed her also gave her very… _unique_ attire.

"It's a cure, of sorts," Luneth said. "Potion. It's like a healing spell you can keep in your pocket."

"Like fish?"

"Not quite. Will Toan care if he gets a scar from this, do you think?"

Xiao shrugged. "Master never talks about that. I assume not."

"'Master'?"

"He's the one that saved me from the bad men. So he's my master." There was an unspoken _duh_ at the end of that sentence.

Luneth pocketed the empty vial as Toan choked and blinked open glassy eyes. "Where's Max and Goro?" he asked.

Xiao stood and skipped over to where Max lay amidst a heap of debris. Blood soaked his borrowed robes, staining the once-pristinely white outfit red. It was kind of ironic. Luneth had thought red was more of Max's color, anyway. White reeked of death and rebirth, not a thirst for adventure and excitement. He popped a hi-potion this time. It was pretty safe to assume that Max was in worse shape than Toan at this point and deserved something a little higher-grade.

"Hey," Xiao said as Luneth emptied the vial into Max's slightly-open mouth. "Can I get one, too?"

"Sure," Luneth said, offering her a small potion. She chugged it happily, but her expression quickly soured. "It tastes terrible," she said.

Luneth shrugged, then went to find Goro. "Health tastes bad. How can you not know that by now?"

Goro had somehow gotten buried in the remains of a destroyed perfume shop. Luneth and Xiao hauled him out of the bed of shattered wood, then laid him barely-conscious between Toan and Max. Goro stared into nothing as Luneth got to work finding his ointments. Given the debris he sustained in the crash, it would be better to clean his wounds first this time.

"Hey!" Xiao shouted into Goro's ear. "Look! I'm back!"

Goro just rolled his head away from her, moaning. Luneth pulled out his ointment, then winced when he noticed several large splinters sticking out of Goro's limbs and torso. "Keep him distracted," Luneth said, cracking his knuckles. "This is gonna hurt."


	17. Chapter 17

" _You must understand that your meeting with the crystal was not happenstance. It was the crystal's will. You have been chosen."—_ Elder Topapa

Ungaga made an awkward companion by himself, Osmond realized. Osmond had grown so used to the noise and light of his labs in Yellow Drops that having such a stiff man travel for a friend turned out to be a lot more awkward than Osmond would have originally supposed.

Thankfully, Ungaga and Osmond weren't the only two on the ship.

"Can you _believe_ that evrae?" Ruby huffed, sauntering away from the edge of the boat. "Thing almost took a bite out of our ship! So rude!"

Waves moved in lethargic ripples across the ocean surface, spurred on by the boat's engine. The foamy edge of those waves lapped against their boat's edge, rocking it ever so gently across on its journey west.

They were on their way across the sea dividing Saronia from the other land on this side of the world. It was a pretty slow ride, having to ride a boat with the wimpiest engine Osmond had ever seen. He managed to catch a glimpse of the technology they used in this place, and it was honestly a little pathetic. He may as well been riding a chocobo-drawn _carriage_ across the ocean, given how primitive these people were.

"So," Osmond said, propping his arms up on the ledge of the ship and waving toward no one in particular. "How're things?"

Ruby shrugged, sparing the ocean a scathing look.

"They are fine," Ungaga said quietly.

"Anything exciting happened?"

"I was about to get married..."

"Hey," Ruby said, "I have a question: how did it take so long for you to get here, Osmond? You've had your ship all this time, why not come down right away?"

Osmond shrugged. "Didn't exactly have our friendly little neighborhood genie-killer to get the minotaur out of the way. I had to fight the beast myself! It was awful! I had to get new goggles!" He adjusted his new ones for emphasis.

Ruby quirked an eyebrow. "So you _could_ have done it yourself the whole time?"

"You know how much these things cost? I had to take it from the project's budget!"

"How do you know where we should go?" Ungaga asked, changing the subject.

Oh, now _that_ was more interesting a subject. Osmond pulled out his nifty tracker. It was a rush job of his, and it showed in the machine's shoddy design. But after tracing the energy of the creature to this world, it wasn't hard to pick out its attractor. The signal originated from giant crystals, which started fuzzing out the moment the Genie showed up on his radar.

"This guy," he announced proudly. Any engineer worth his ears would recognize how hastily the thing was assembled from scraps, but to Ungaga's untrained eyes, it may as well have been magic. Osmond didn't bother trying to explain the rest of the process, though he always loved watching Ungaga's eyes spin from Osmond's technical explanations.

Ruby snagged the tracker from Osmond's hands, eyes narrowing. "What does it _do_?" she asked.

"Traces signals," Osmond said. "I had to modify pre-existing technology in order to make it recognize the Genie's trail, but it's really just a simple radar."

Ungaga asked for no further explanation. He didn't care for Osmond's technology. Typical for humans, hating what they couldn't understand. When would they learn to see the wonder in bafflement? The excitement that came from discovery of something yet unseen in the world? Osmond shook his head. They missed out on so much. If they stopped to research these crystals, for example, they would find quite the—

"You two don't meddle," Ungaga said. "What brings you here, now?"

Osmond blinked, looking up. Ungaga kept his gaze fixed ahead, but Osmond could see worry in his eyes. Ruby paused in her fiddling with Osmond's tracker.

Osmond didn't know how strange it was for humans living here to notice one of their moons suddenly go missing, but he suspected it in no way compared to living in Yellow drops and waking up one day to see all his readings shooting through the charts before he looked outside to see a vast nothingness where the other moon should have been. In the previous timeline, they _used_ that moon. It was home to countless fae and other sorts, and then it just rumbled out of sight.

Osmond sighed. Maybe Ungaga didn't know? "The moon. You saw it, right?"

Ungaga and Ruby nodded.

"I want it back," Osmond said. "Or at least an explanation for why it went missing. No one else remembers back home. And I don't like that."

Ungaga dipped his head. He knew the feeling, then, and it wasn't just Osmond. "Do you think we can bring it back?" Osmond asked, feeling a sort of melancholy creep in. He didn't like the idea of the Moon Sea being gone forever.

"It depends," Ungaga said.

"On what?"

Ungaga nodded toward the horizon. "On what lies over there."

Osmond grimaced. He wished for a moment that he didn't already know the answer to that question. "Remember Flagg?" Osmond asked.

Ruby cursed shortly, shoving the tracker back in Osmond's hands. "I've seen him around," she said. "He's been causing a lot of trouble under the Genie's control. Almost took out one of our allies."

"Allies?" Osmond asked. "Toan?"

Ruby shook her head. "It's a long story."

"Flagg never died in this timeline," Ungaga said. "But the Genie did, didn't he?"

"Sort of," Ruby said, holding up a finger. "We _weakened_ him."

"I was wondering why he showed up again," Osmond said. "Was everything we did for nothing?"

"No," Ruby said, "not by a long shot. Every time we beat it back, it makes just a little bit harder for it to return. This is just his rebound. Odds are it'll be a couple more timelines before he comes back again. In his full form, at least."

"Great," Osmond said, scowling. "Like _that's_ any better."

"Hey, look on the bright side," Ruby said, "At least we're not time-traveling for once."

Osmond scoffed. "For now, at least."

* * *

Saronia was a welcome sight on the horizon. It reminded Ingus just a little of Sasune, with its proud flag flapping in the wind and shouting soldiers. A whole guard could be seen patrolling the dock, awaiting their ship's arrival. Ingus let himself smile at the sight of all those armored generals and footmen.

He was home.

Monica prowled restlessly about the deck of the ship and Arc wouldn't emerge from his cot in the hold, so Ingus was left alone at the head of the ship. The silence was appreciated—the Crystals knew they had little time to themselves during their travels, and it certainly wouldn't get any better once they'd stocked up on supplies and left again. Ingus took a moment to savor the quiet wind that swept across the deck and flared out his cloak.

The ship rocked as it approached the dock, and Monica finally stopped pacing. She came to Ingus' side, regarding Saronia with what looked like relief.

"Welcome to the west," Ingus said, "Home to the four Crystals of Light and Darkness."

"Thanks," Monica said, a hint of awe in her voice. "It doesn't look any different from the east. Or my time, even. Just mountains and… what's that to the south?"

"Our home." They looked at the Floating Continent, its jagged edges peeking out from behind some clouds passing over. Sasune was probably getting a healthy rainfall. "The Floating Continent."

Monica looked amused. "It's bigger than the last one I've seen."

"From your time?"

Monica elaborated, "Someone under the influence of the Genie once teleported their castle from the ground in one time to the air in another. Not mine, but a time that I passed through."

"Ours was created by a god of sorts turned mortal," Ingus said. "He also was possessed."

Monica hummed in thought. "That would make an interesting connection, if he did that in all of his incarnations."

Sailors shouted as they prepared to dock, and deckhands rushed about. Seagulls wheeled in the sky as if to greet them, and crowds in the city paused at the view of the ship. Travel between the two lands was still so new, that any arrival, even that of a small, common transport ship, must have been an exciting prospect.

Arc groggily appeared Ingus' other side, rubbing at his eyes. They'd repaired his damaged coat with buckles and hardened leather and he walked with a slight limp, but aside from that he looked like himself again. "Already?" he asked

"Yes," Ingus said.

Arc had gotten precious rest on the voyage, allowing for his body to recover from the majority of the illness caused by his wounds. He still tired easily, but the rest of the symptoms were gone. Ingus and Monica had both finished healing some days ago, which lent Ingus some confidence. It would fare well for them if they were in good shape to handle the Genie, as opposed to being half-dead like they were before.

"Perhaps," Monica said, "I should be the spokesman this time. It's obvious that we'll be speaking with some dignitaries, so it's only appropriate that I represent us."

"You mistake me, princess," Ingus said. "I'm a well-respected dignitary and messenager myself. The people know me."

Monica opened her mouth slightly to respond, but just then the ship lurched to a stop inside Saronia's bay, and Ingus, Arc, and Monica were forced into the crowd of passengers ready to disembark.

As they filed along, Ingus kept his eye on Monica. She'd never been here before, and would be lost easily. He could understand her reasoning for wanting to take charge, but it simply wouldn't make any sense here.

"Sir Ingus," said one guard, "Our apologies. We weren't expecting you."

Their attire had changed, with Ingus having lost much of the plating on his arms and legs, but he still wore the seal of Sasune that Alus had granted the four of them for free passage through the city. The guards stationed at the unloading ramp only glanced to the seals that Arc and Ingus brandished before saluting and parting.

"She's with us," Arc said when they tried to stop Monica. "It's fine."

"But sir!" one of them said as Monica scowled at him. "King Alus—"

"I don't think he would mind," Ingus cut in. "If he takes issue with it, refer him to me."

"Y—yes, sir!"

Monica frowned as they walked away. "I see they're quick to stop people here."

"As they should," Ingus said. "The king has already had a few notable attempts on his life, one of which almost got him and his kingdom killed."

"By itself," Arc added. "Civil war."

"Wow," Monica breathed. "How did _that_ happen?"

"Long story," Arc and Ingus said at the same time.

The kingdom was built on the edge of the island, which included a lot of hills and steep inclines that made the paths a little uneven and baring more than a little resemblance to a maze. They would get a fair workout just making their way to Alus' residence.

Alus. Ingus cringed at the thought of speaking with him now. The king in Sasune had some matters he was in the middle of figuring out in their relationship to this kingdom and Alus would certainly expect an update from Ingus despite his travels.

Never mind the fact that Ingus had forgotten to keep in touch with the king in the midst of everything else they were dealing with. They really didn't have much time to spare for politicking right now.

He pretended not to notice Monica sliding in front of him.

* * *

"What?" Monica exclaimed. " _Here_?"

Arc gaped in disbelief. They just missed Luneth and the others by a _day_.

Alus nodded. "I'm afraid so. They came seeking only refreshment and supplies. They had to remain here a day for their friend to recuperate, the blonde one. But then they left as soon as he became mobile again."

"We need to leave!" Monica said, making for the door.

"Wait," Alus said. "They have an airship. If you wish to have any hope of catching up with them, you'll need to take one of mine as well. We've gotten closer to replicating the _Nautilus_ ' speed, but I admit that it's still not all there. And now that the _Nautilus_ has been destroyed—"

"Destroyed?" Arc repeated, blanching. "It's _gone_?"

Alus set his mouth into a hard line. "For a given definition. It was blown up during Luneth's journey here, hence the injuries that his friend sustained. But we still have most of the engine in our labs, so we should still be able to finish our research before we ship it back to Sasune."

"We fly out immediately, then," Ingus said, "If Your Majesty would grant us your blessing."

Monica looked anxiously to Alus.

"Yes," Alus said. Monica let out a breath. "As soon as I received word of your arrival, I arranged to have a ship prepared for this exact scenario. Come. I'll show you."

Alus left his throne, cape sweeping out behind him. He drifted to Arc's side as they all left the room. Ingus took lead, with Monica right behind him.

Arc couldn't help but notice with a jealous twinge that Alus had somehow gained at least three inches since he and Arc last met. At this rate, he was going to be taller than Arc by the time they stopped growing.

"I should have you know," the king said softly enough for only Arc to hear. The others fell into their own conversations, distracted. "Luneth wasn't well when we spoke."

 _His silence in the link_ , Arc realized."What's wrong with him?" Arc asked.

Alus shook his head. "It's hard to say. He had plenty of energy, but his face looked pale. And he moved... strangely. He's not sick, I don't think, but there was something about the way he… I don't know, Arc. It was almost inhuman, some of his mannerisms. His eyes looked darker than before. Unnaturally dark."

 _Fae lineage_. Arc bit back a shiver, "I _thought_ something was wrong."

"He's not possessed," Alus said as they passed through a corridor drenched in sun beams from the open windows. "I've seen possession, and it wasn't like what they did to my father. Luneth still looked like himself, and yet there was something… _off_ about him."

Of course Alus would know, after the incident where his mind-controlled father tried to kill Alus. Arc remembered that night, the deadness in the then-king's eyes.

Monica picked up her pace just enough to get in front of Ingus. He started walking faster as well.

"I've heard a name," Arc said. "Perhaps it will help us find answers. Do you know someone in the kingdom, or who may have passed through, calling himself 'Gaspard?' We think he might—"

Monica cut him off, spinning to face them, "Did you just—?"

Her abrupt stop surprised Ingus and he tripped. Instead of falling, he gracefully twirled on his feet, trying to look deliberate in the motion. Monica didn't appear to notice.

Arc froze as their small company stopped and silence fell. "Do you know him?" Arc asked.

"Only if it's the same man," Monica said. "What does he look like?"

Arc shook his head. "I only have the journal to go by, but it says that he has white hair and black markings—"

Monica swore. "Where did you hear about him? When did you see him?"

Everyone stared at him now, waiting. Arc grimaced at the attention. "Uh, we didn't meet, but my father wrote about an encounter that happened ten years ago, I think. Maybe more. He might be dead. But he also might know something about—"

"Oh, he's definitely dead," Monica said. "We killed him. In the future. I _checked_."

Bad memory. _Good job, Arc,_ he told himself. _Just upset everyone, why don't you?_

"Who was Gaspard?" Alus asked patiently.

"A murderer," Monica bit out.

"Oh?" Alus looked intrigued.

Monica's eyes were hard. "He was also possessed by the Dark Genie."

Another one. Arc cast a look to Ingus, who looked thoughtful. "That is concerning," he said, "as that was the man from whom Aga took us."

"And Aga was the one who gathered you all?" Monica asked.

"The Warriors of the Light," Alus whispered, "all taken by the Darkness itself. Why?"

"I presume," Ingus said, "that its intentions were to kill us before we could stop it in the future. It appears that this creature can see through time itself."

"But Aga found out," Arc said, realization dawning. "He saved us, at the cost of his own life."

Monica glanced between them, frowning. "And then the Genie overtook him. We already knew this, didn't we? What's new?"

Arc racked his brain. "We were taken from our homes… by the Darkness. There was something we were supposed to do that it wanted to prevent. It couldn't kill us. So it simply moved us. I think the Crystals chose us as a consequence. We have the order all wrong. Ingus, what was it that Ruby said you used to be?"

"General," he said. "It's not any different from now."

"We're missing something," Arc said, "We need to find Ruby again."

Ingus shook his head. "Not until after we save the Crystals."

Right. Priorities. It wouldn't exactly make much of a difference if they tried to fix things only to lose the Crystals and the whole world by consequence.

 _Warriors,_ the Crystals whispered forcefully. _Listen._

Arc locked eyes with Ingus, who grabbed at his spear. How long had they tuned out? _Yes?_

 _Refia has returned, and she brings grave news..._

* * *

It was a dream. Or, Simba made it feel a _lot_ like one.

Luneth stood in a pool of light, one of two identical spots. Luneth looked groggily about, confused. Disorientated. Simba smiled to himself. He usually had that effect on people. Only proper that even Luneth would be lost in such a strange setting. The ground he stood on was soft beneath his shoes, like the ground they traversed on their way to the Cave of Tides, but there was only grass visible in the two illuminated spots. The rest was a dark, opaque void.

This was how Simba greeted all of his heroes.

It was funny. From what he heard of Monica, who now traveled with two of the other Crystal heroes, she would try this exact same thing on Simba himself when she would be about twelve years old and first discovering the powers available to her through the heritage of her genie grandmother. A bloodline that continued in Refia.

But Refia hadn't yet tapped into the reserves available to her. Simba made a mental note to visit her soon and let her know of what lay available at her fingertips. It was reasonable that she wouldn't know yet. She had no reason to. Unlike Luneth, her secondary power didn't clash with that of the Crystals. And unlike Monica, Refia didn't have a reason to suspect that the tricks she could do before meeting the rest of her fellow Warriors had nothing to do with her destiny as a hero of the Light.

Finally, Luneth stilled, realizing he was stuck. He made no effort to escape—he actually barely moved, as was natural for one finding themselves in this realm. Something in the body realized before the mind that there wasn't anything dangerous about this place. It was simply _was_. What happened here was simply to _be_.

"Hello," Simba finally said, earning a startled look as Luneth whirled to face him.

Luneth regarded him, hands falling to his hips. "Okay. Um. _Who_ are you?"

"Oh, dear," said Simba, gripping his staff protectively. "I don't think I'm supposed to answer that. Laws of time and all that. Suffice to say, I'm who they call the Fairy King. Or Simba, if you prefer. I just wanted to talk to you for a bit. Check to see how you're doing, given your recently-developed powers that you don't entirely understand. I'm a, shall we say, 'guide' to all budding adventurers."

" _Budding_ adventurer?" Luneth was insulted. "I guess you missed out on the whole 'us saving the world' thing. No 'budding' about it."

Simba hesitated. The kid had a point. "I didn't miss it, I was just a little… preoccupied. Being the king of fairies can get a little distracting, sometimes. Lots of matters to attend to."

Luneth sat down on the ground, earning an amused chuckle from Simba. It was rare that someone felt comfortable enough here to sit. "Not the best guide, then," Luneth muttered, "if you're letting things like that get in the way of your job."

"They're both my job. But back to my original point: you've discovered your new power, yes?"

Luneth shook his head. "Sort of. It doesn't use mana, which is nice, but there are a lot of things I can't do with it."

"Did you understand the Crystals' magic when you first obtained it?"

Luneth shook his head again.

"It'll always a matter of practice," Simba said, shifting the grip on his staff as it resonated with Luneth, vibrating at the proximity to its potential master. "This power may be strange now, but if you give it time and patience, you'll start to discover that you can do things you never thought possible. Flying, for instance."

"But… back in Saronia, I couldn't even touch that knight. It sets up annoying barriers, things that just get in the way!"

"You'll have to accept it eventually," Simba said, "There are ways that you could help your friends, if you embraced this. Ways that you cannot comprehend, not in the state you're in now. Try it—prove me wrong."

Luneth's frown tightened. He was wavering, Simba could feel it. Good.

"Feel free to call me again," Simba said, "But for now, you should be waking, I worry the others will start to wonder if you're dead."

Luneth scrambled back to his feet. "Wait! You haven't told me _why_ I have this!"

Simba shook his head. "That's one question that I'm not sure I should answer. If I did, the course of time itself could be rent in twain." … Technically.

"Screw that!" Luneth said, hands curling into fists. "If you think I should be using it, then I think I have good reason to know _why_! What _is it_?"

There actually wasn't much of any threat to the timeline if Luneth knew. He'd learn eventually, whether or not Simba told him. Simba just didn't want to confront that reality just yet. And he didn't think Luneth would believe him, anyway. It would be a waste of effort, and more than likely distract Luneth from his goal at the moment.

Simba wasn't going to risk it. Things were going okay. At this rate, they would restore the Crystals before the Cloud could get to them all, and then they could set out to take down the Cloud himself.

"With time," Simba said, "you'll see. For now, all I can say is that it's a gift from the faeries of Blue Terra. They're with you, Luneth. When you see us, whether in your dreams or under your bed, or in your darkened closets, we mean to do more than speak flattering words."

" _Like_?"

Simba allowed a small smile. "We created a tool of sorts, using the combined knowledge and efforts of our greatest scientists and craft smiths. I don't understand it all myself, honestly, but they told me it can accomplish some magnificent things: time travel, recovering memories, quick death..."

Luneth huffed. "Doesn't sound that relevant right now."

"It will be," Simba assured him. "Now sleep. Your friends are waking."

"Wait—!"

At Simba's command, Luneth's eyes shut and the scape dispersed into nothingness.

* * *

Ungaga considered himself not to be much of a gawker. He liked to think himself poised, as was typical for a warrior of his status. He didn't deign to hang his jaw like children did upon being faced with treats.

But Osmond's machinery brought Ungaga and the other two to a strange sight indeed. One that Ungaga had never seen the likes of in all of his two decades alive on this planet.

A full moon hung in the sky, reflecting against a towering structure that appeared to be entirely formed from glass and crystal. It glowed a soft blue in the moon's light and shattered the light reflecting through it across the land.

Surrounding the tower was a squarish wall, which looked to be twice as wide as Ungaga's village. The maze that Osmond mentioned, whose entrance to the wall was blocked by a small army of undead. Some dozens of soldier skeletons and zombies guarded the entrance, jagged swords tensed and ready.

A warm wind blew in, and Ungaga savored its touch. This place certainly wasn't what many would call cold, but compared to the desert sands of home, it felt uncomfortably chill to Ungaga.

"What do you think?" Osmond asked from his position behind a large boulder. The three of them stopped behind what cover they could find. Ruby leaned against a tree, and Ungaga crouched behind a large bush. The shadow of the surrounding forest kept them from the army's eyes, fortunately, but should they move any further, they would certainly lose that advantage.

Ungaga narrowed his eyes, seeing the battle in his mind's eye. "It will be difficult."

"Maybe for you," Ruby said, absently twisting the band on her arm. " _I_ don't expect any complications. Not for these weaklings, at least."

"Then I can jump over with my pack and rush in," Osmond said. "We might still beat him if he's already here. It's gonna be close, though."

"We've managed closer," Ruby said. "Are you seriously having doubts right now?"

Osmond smiled. "You remind me why I brought you two along."

Ruby raised an eyebrow. "You? Brought _me_? I should think it was the other way around. I got to Ungaga first, after all."

"Hey, that's just because you cheated with your strange flying magic!"

"I told you, it's not magic!"

"Are you ready?" Ungaga asked, flexing his fingers over his Mirage. "Time is short. And your voices grow louder by the moment."

Osmond sighed. "Yes. You'll have to go first, though, and get their attention—"

Ungaga moved.

Dozens of eyes snapped to his location as Ungaga stepped out of the brush, Mirage held loosely at his side. Ruby waited just behind.

Ungaga just breathed for a moment, sizing up his foe.

What most of the other residents of Muska Racka didn't understand was that being strong wasn't about large muscles or hours practicing or number of battles lived and won. It was about form and poise. One could cut through a hundred enemies and still fall at the well-timed strike of a child. It was about reflex and movement. It was about confidence and calm even in the face of certain death.

He always wondered why the others always struggled with that. In the heat of battle, they lost their composure, lost their form when they should have simply channeled the rage and fear and pain into fluidity and precision.

The small army charged as one. Lumbering bones and rotting flesh marched on him, their maws gaping for the taste of human flesh. Ungaga's mouth twitched and he breathed once before snapping Mirage into motion, slamming the blade into the neck of one zombie. Its head popped off cleanly.

Osmond disappeared behind him, the sound of his flight machine dying down as Ruby leapt into the action. As long as nothing followed Osmond, he should at least be able to get Flagg in a surprise attack.

Flagg would think the numbers here distracted anyone daring to enter after him.

He would be wrong.

* * *

It was _hot_ inside.

Osmond rubbed at his coat. It was almost summer down here on the blue planet, and the heat of outside somehow managed to penetrate the depths of this maze. Already, he found himself missing the cool of Yellow Drops.

Bricks of stone formed wall and floor here, forming an entirely brown-colored view. On top of poor insulation, the Ancients apparently had no sense of taste. There was a faint red tint to the air, an effect of the heat, but beyond that it was entirely monochrome. Just a red-tinted, brown series of corridors and hallways. There were no markings on the wall to indicate position or help with direction, leading Osmond to wonder what the creators would do if they found themselves lost.

The maze was silent, which was a rarity for Osmond. There was a reason he wore heavy cloth over his ears, after all. People were loud, and most sounds that didn't bother humans would have him recoiling in pain. And if he couldn't hear anything down here, then it had to actually be quite silent. The thought was encouraging. If there wasn't another living soul down here, then that had to mean that Osmond and Ungaga had beat Flagg. Perhaps the army outside was something he set up before he even got here.

Osmond stopped inside one room where the walls disappeared, leaving only stone walkways set above—

Was that _lava_? How in space was he still _alive?_

Dust ground ahead of him—the sound of footsteps. Osmond fingered Starbreaker's trigger in anticipation. He was close.

The maze twisted on for a while, with Osmond coming steadily closer to Flagg's position. He paused every now and again to avoid catching up too closely so as to avoid detection, but eventually the sound of footsteps faded and a more prominently red light came into view. Osmond slowed down. Better to be cautious then get killed before he could stop the guy.

As he approached, the light grew stronger until he turned one last corner and a huge, glowing crystal came into view, its surface reflecting in the light like… well, crystal. Multi-faceted edges reflected a swirling orange light inside and cast tiny, golden lights across the cave's walls and ceiling. A single figure stood before it, one hand exposed, his silhouette illuminated by the fiery light.

General Flagg.

Osmond switched off his propellers and padded along the ground, stepping slowly and cautiously. He might yet be able to get in a surprise hit.

The man didn't appear to notice, at first. His attention was fixed on the glimmering crystal, its orange light reflecting like so many tiny, LED lights despite the dark of the cavernous maze. It was, admittedly, a little mesmerizing. One could get lost for hours in its shining depths.

That light then started to dim, which Osmond took as a cue to aim Starbreaker, leveling it to look directly at the back of the man's head.

"You're too late," Flagg said, starting to turn. "The Crystal is drained already and—"

He silenced as a string of bullets nailed him in the face.

Flagg crumpled wordlessly to the ground.

Osmond watched him for a few moments, waiting for him to stand up again.

More footsteps sounded behind him, and Ungaga and Ruby appeared, both breathing heavily toting slightly-torn clothing.

"Is he dead?" Ruby asked, sounding disappointed.

Osmond walked over and nudged the body with his boot. Normally, he would say yes, but given their experience in the past with this guy, he didn't have a whole lot of confidence. Osmond leveled Starbreaker.

And emptied most of his entire cartridge into Flagg's body.

He sniffed, shot one more time, and then let Starbreaker fall idle at his side. "I would say yes," Osmond replied, "He's dead."


	18. Chapter 18

_"The hopes of light and darkness now unite! We shall not let the Void reign free!" -_ Warriors of the Dark

Refia was tired of traveling. Her feet were sore and her legs ached. The rations tasted like dry wheat in her mouth and the water like fish. Thankfully, the Crystals had apparently guided Arc and Ingus to the same small village where she would land, so she could afford to stop and rest for a time there before they set out again together.

It had been weeks since she last saw them, too. The thought of meeting up again was almost as exciting as the thought of fresh food.

It was sundown when the ship docked and she disembarked. Amur was an interesting village as it was built on top of water canals, which made it the perfect port for docking ships from Saronia. Whether they came for checking on the Crystals or exploring or mining or shipping personnel, Amur was really the best and only place for a ship of travelers to land.

Despite that however, only farmers seemed to live here, as evidenced by the pitchforks and the stench of livestock. Refia wondered how much longer it would be before a proper city started to spring up from the small village.

Refia mingled among the rest of the travelers, her eyes scanning the crowds for anyone that looked even a little bit out of place. Work-wearied folk and seasick passengers filled her view, but she couldn't see anyone that might pass as distinctly evil. The people here were in the middle of something of a planting, as evidenced by heaped barrels of seed.

It felt a little more like home for Refia to see the men settling on their porches for a well-earned mug of ale while the women took out clothes to dry and mend. All was well here, it appeared. For once she could rest and relax, if only for a day. Arc and Ingus would be here soon, and after they slept, they would promptly leave.

But until then, Refia would take full advantage of her break. For that purpose, she left to find a carrier moogle.

* * *

The sun had all but disappeared when Ingus, Arc, and a new friend arrived in Amur. The _Invincible_ hovered just above the ground, having no docking bay to touch down in.

Refia rushed forward to greet them, waving her arms to catch their attention amid the other villagers that had gathered to see what the commotion was all about. Once they landed, she barreled into them, grabbing Ingus and Arc in a hug before they could summon any objections.

"Look at you!" Refia exclaimed, pulling back again. "Arc, your coat! Ingus' face! You look so different!"

"Hey," Arc said quietly. They both smelled like sun and wind, and Refia couldn't help noticing the new clothes they wore to accompany a myriad of scabbed-over cuts and scrapes.

Refia released Arc quickly, urging them toward the village. "We need to get you cleaned up so I can start mending those injuries," she said. "Look at your face!"

"What's wrong with it?" Arc asked.

"Hey," Refia said, "Don't pick up on your brother's sarcasm. It doesn't suit you."

"... That wasn't sarcasm."

"Hello," a pink-haired girl said, extending an open palm. "I'm Monica. Nice to meet you."

"Ah," Refia said, accepting her hand. Was this part of her custom in meeting people? "The Crystals told me about you," Refia said, offering her own hand. "Is it true you're from the future?"

Monica nodded. "Looks like a few centuries from now."

"But you can't talk to the Crystals?"

"No."

"It's actually quite intriguing," Arc said. He leaned on Ingus as they walked. "Being a time traveler, I mean. If you're constantly jumping all over the place, what does that mean about your age? How do you keep track?"

"For the most part," Monica said, "we didn't jump very often, so there wasn't that much to keep track of."

"Jump?" Ingus asked.

"Though time," Monica said. "We used gates, which would propel us back or forward by a very specific number of years to a very specific place."

When they found the inn, the innkeeper eyed them warily. They certainly couldn't have put forth the image of those born to privilege, so Refia could understand a little of his hesitance. She slapped the seal of Saronia on the table, and he looked at it suspiciously.

"You think we'd steal it?" Refia asked. "The Warriors of Light don't steal."

"Actually-"

"Shut up, Arc," Refia said.

"Warriors of Light," the innkeeper repeated, quickly accepting Refia's coins. "Not a soul in the lands that won't have heard of you lot. Come, we have one booking left."

The room they were led to was just barely large enough to take all four of them. It had two beds, basins for washing, and sufficient space on the floor for Refia to check her maps. It was definitely sufficient.

Monica was a bit of a mystery, Refia found as they settled in. Her clothes appeared sturdy, but strange. She wore a purplish, sleeveless vest and trousers so short Refia could see her knees. A proper woman would have blushed at such blatant immodesty, but Refia knew she wasn't one allowed to complain about rebellion against societal standards, given her currently working as a Devout. Despite Ingus and Arc's mostly-mended attire, Monica's was still scuffed and burned at the edges.

"Okay," Refia said, "Ingus first."

Ingus gave her a puzzled look, and Refia summoned a cure.

"Ah," he said.

Ingus settled into a seat near Refia. He'd gotten even taller since they parted and even with them kneeling on the ground, she had to stretch a little to clearly see the cuts on his face. She closed her eyes, envisioning the injuries in her mind's eye. With the power of the Devout, she could feel even under Ingus' vest the breaks in his skin and muscle. They appeared in her vision as blue lights, indicating the need for Crystal light. She started chanting.

"I swear," Refia muttered, briefly pausing the chant as flesh mended over, hiding what remained of the cuts, scrapes, and bruises. "You two can be so negligent of your injuries sometimes. These could have been infected if you'd left them for just a little bit longer."

"We tried," Arc said. "But we didn't know how to seal some of them up like you do."

Refia opened her eyes again, continuing the chant. The soft blue light of her magic lit the room in soft hues.

"It's not a question of magical prowess," Refia said as the light flashed brighter for second, marking the end of the cure. Ingus' body was whole—there was nothing left for Refia's magic to do. What remained would remain for the rest of Ingus' life. "Magic can do many things, but it will work much faster and much safer if you first take care of the other precautions, like washing and splinting. It speeds up recovery and strengthens the body. A cure isn't going to do a whole lot if it seals over an infection without also having the strength to take care of the infection itself."

"It was unavoidable," Ingus said. "We were pressed for time."

"And," Monica said, "in their defense, they were exhausted for most of the trip, and I know firsthand how much that affects casting abilities."

Refia spared her a glance. "That is exactly why you should have stuck to non-magic methods. Weak cures will make the _pain_ go away faster, but they won't fix whatever lies buried underneath. Come on, Arc, let's take a look at you, next."

Ingus stood Arc then sat beside Refia. She closed her eyes again. Underneath his layers, Refia could see an ugly, barely-healed stab wound just under his chest.

"Arc," Refia said sternly. "What is this?"

He looked down, avoiding her gaze. "Gremlin."

"You're a horrible liar, you know that?"

"It was Aga," Ingus said.

"Have you cleaned the wound recently?" Refia asked, rising to prepare a small tub of water. Arc nodded.

"We met him in the forest," Ingus said, "It appears he's under the control of the Dark Genie."

"He's a swordsman?" she asked, returning to Arc, who shook his head, gaze still on the floor. She started up another cure, noting the diminutive size of the cut.

"I didn't see," Arc said. "He took me from behind. I don't remember much after that. It hurt a lot when I woke up."

"He stabbed you through the stomach," Monica said. "He should have killed you."

Ingus nodded, looking solemn. "If it weren't for the Crystal's restorative properties, Arc would indeed be dead by now."

Refia paused as the cure finished in a puff of blue smoke and Arc stood.

"We're just pawns," Refia said. "And we're fighting in a war of the gods. I guess it was only a matter of time before they started killing us again. It just means we'll have to be extra careful from here on out."

"And not split up again," Ingus said.

"Strength in numbers," Monica said. "He's got a point. If we can regroup with your friends and mine, we'll have a much better chance at beating this thing."

"Speaking of," Refia said, "Has anyone heard from Luneth? The Crystals last told me they were having trouble contacting him."

Arc shook his head, looking sullen. "Same problem. We've been hearing less and less over the past few weeks, and now we just think that he might be going in the same direction. We were hoping you might know something, given your experience in the future."

Refia paused. "Mostly, I only received bad news, aside from the fact that Arc's going to become a renowned sage."

That snapped Arc out of his reverie. "I'm what?"

"It's a long story," Refia said, sighing. Arc's shoulders slumped. "But I guess I can stick to the short version."

* * *

The cave was dark and smelled like old, molding things. Rickety, treacherous bridges crossed over ravines full of sparkling pools of water that cast a glowing, blue light over the otherwise-dark ceilings that protruded stalagmites and stalactites. Max shivered in the chill of this place, taking another step across the bridge. Luneth had already crossed and moved on to the next bridge, leaving Max and the other three in his wake.

The fight in Saronia had gotten Luneth so worked up. Max had come to know the other boy as exuberant, but Luneth had mellowed out a bit after they landed in Saronia. He started to act a little more normal.

And then the black-armored knight attacked, and Luneth hadn't slowed down at all since.

Max sucked in a ragged breath, jogging to catch up. Toan and his friends weren't doing much better, though Xiao somehow managed to stay a few yards ahead of the other three. Max slowly crossed the bridge, wishing for all the world that he was back in the future, where places like this had solid crossings that didn't threaten death upon the slightest misstep.

Honestly, though, he missed his time in general. He missed modern plumbing and electricity. He missed feeling clean after a bath. He missed the speed of trains, and not having to spend days on foot traveling just to get from one place to another. His shoes had worn out so much faster here, and though he was hesitant to replace them, it was starting to look like he would have to before they finally finished. Even his dragon shoes could only stand so much of the untamed wilderness before the pine cones, rocks, and plant husks would wear holes straight through what remained of the soles.

As it was, he could feel the decaying wood beneath his feet in every step. It was only a matter of time, now. Especially after he had to get most of his clothes replaced from the explosion, it was almost like he was turning into one of these primitive people, what with all the leather and tunics he was forced to wear.

Max let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding as he stepped onto soft dirt again, taking off after Luneth. The cave was eerily quiet and not a creature stirred in the depths here. Max was almost certain it was a fae realm. Nowhere else had that same tint of mystery that he felt here.

"Hurry up!" Luneth shouted. "We're almost there!"

Xiao sprinted after him. "Yeah! No time to lose!"

Max groaned. His side was threatening to split open and his legs ached. He wanted to rest, not keep running for another hour. "We're not like you two!" Max reminded them. "We're human! We can't keep going at this pace!"

"But we have to!" Xiao said.

Goro grunted, "Just ignore them." He kept pace with Max.

Luneth shouted back. "He's getting closer!"

"He's always getting closer," Toan said flatly. Xiao immediately appeared around a corner, cat-ears perking up. Toan continued, "A few minutes isn't going to make much of a difference at this point."

They rounded the corner, and Luneth also came into view, slowing to a walk. He looked forlornly ahead, the depths of the cave stretching on. "But… the darkness could be here, already."

The party fell into a steady walk.

"Darkness?" Max repeated. "The same one that you mentioned before?"

Luneth nodded. "Arc and I beat it a while ago, but I remember what it feels like, and it's definitely close."

Toan faltered, tripping a little. Max looked between them, brow furrowing. If it really was the same thing that he and Monica encountered, then he knew the same feeling. But he couldn't sense it like Luneth did.

"Wait," Luneth said, pausing.

"What?" Max asked, stopping with him. "Did I say something weird?"

"No. Stop! All of you!" Luneth's voice was urgent, and he stared at the ground, focusing on something none of them could see.

The others stayed quiet. They waited for a good minute before Luneth spoke again. "Was that the Earth Crystal?" Luneth muttered. Max wasn't sure if he expected them to answer. "It can't be. I would know. I _should know_."

"Luneth," Toan said. "What are you talking about?"

"I think the Cloud just took out the Earth Crystal."

"The what?" Goro asked.

* * *

The cave was dark when they entered. Something dripped in the distance and Monica could hear voices just ahead. Did Max beat her? She stepped carefully with Ingus in front, and Refia and Arc hanging behind. Refia and Arc were magic-users, only capable of ranged attacks, while Monica and Ingus favored melee. Monica was experienced in both, but for this situation, it would balance out a lot better if she stuck with her sword and left the ranged to the mages.

 _Just going to get in my way, I see._

Monica scowled at the voice in her head. Why wouldn't it leave her alone?

Armor clanked and a dark figure appeared between them and the rest of the passage. The black knight. Behind her, Arc and Refia murmured.

"Take geomancer?" Refia asked.

"If you can be bard."

The air shifted. Monica glanced to see Refia envelop herself in a white glow, and Arc in black. "You take me for a simpleton," Refia said, clothes turning blue and green. A feather sprouted from a band in her hair. "I hope you can aim."

Voices clamored beyond them and the black knight waited.

Monica exchanged a look with Ingus, who was suddenly wrapped in black armor. He nodded to her, as the knight ahead of them took a step forward. Monica tensed, and prepared to lunge—

And stopped just as a bunch of other people rushed in through one of the tunnels.

"Arc?!" a voice called.

Arc shouted back, "Luneth!"

Monica caught a glimpse of blonde hair beyond the black knight. "Max!"

"… Toan?" Arc whispered in disbelief.

"Who are all of these people?!" an unfamiliar, deep voice shouted in surprise.

"GUYS!" came a high-pitched, girl's voice.

The cave dissolved into chaos as spells exploded and swords clashed, trapping their group in the narrow corridor. The black knight blurred in the dark and Monica was forced to guess where he'd go as someone screamed in pain. A spell missed the mark. She watched for the gold trim that would give him away, but even that was hard to see in here. The knight all but blended into the darkness. Monica stepped forward, trying to gain ground in the intersection just beyond them.

A voice started singing, carrying with it a strange sense of power. A harp played, and with its melody, Monica somehow felt stronger.

Light burst to her view, illuminating the corridor in a pale light. Arc's doing? Refia's?

Given the restricted movement in the passage, friendly-fire proved a serious threat. Monica cursed when she almost cut into Ingus' arm. She leaped backward. Perhaps ranged _was_ a better option here. She charged her band, the charge of it tickling from her chest to her arm. Light glowed in her palm as the power gathered.

Ingus, Max, and two of their friends took melee. A small girl with cat's ears and tail shot pebbles from behind a brunette kid and a boy that must have been from Matataki, given his bear-cloak It was much easier for Monica to see what was happening from here, and thus much easier to aim a solid hit to the black knight's back instead of Max's throat.

Arc released a shower of rock at the knight, who deflected most of it.

"We need to move!" Monica shouted "We're throttled here!"

Max moved first, pushing past the black knight and on toward the blue light. Everyone else followed.

The knight looked to them even as he punched Ingus hard enough to send blood spraying the wall red. Blue burst to life around Ingus' body and an earthen wall sprung up in front of Monica and Arc, blocking their view. She heard those beyond the wall retreat down toward the other room. Arc moved the wall forward, slowly, forcing anything that remained back.

Another set of steps thumped quietly away.

Monica was useless, stuck on this side. And there was no way the others would be able to take the knight down alone while Arc moved them ever so slowly forward.

"Fine," she hissed. "You want to help me?"

The voice came in, low and eager, _Yes._

"Then help me kill you."

* * *

Luneth threw lightning, but it was pointless. Everyone else could swing, hit, dodge, roll, run, rebound, and _fight_ against this guy while Luneth was stuck throwing things around without any effect, like a child having a tantrum. He wasn't a child! He wasn't useless! Simba said was it was supposed to protect him, protect his friends, but all it did was _get in the way_!

He raged, unleashing fire and lightning and ice and holy light and everything he had. It all vanished before even making contact with the black knight. Luneth pulled out his sword and swung, but it rebounded off of the knight's armor without leaving as much as a scratch. He wasn't sure it even _hit_ the armor. Luneth kicked and railed, but to no avail. The knight looked wordlessly down at him. He made no attempt to touch Luneth himself, even as he flashed in and out of view - he must have already resigned himself to the fact that it was pointless to try.

The others moved even as Luneth fell still in an intersection. They all fought with fury, their weapons singing and dancing in the dim light. He felt small. Useless. Powerless. He was supposed to be this mystical fae, with all this inhuman strength, and all it did was take away his ability to hurt the targets that mattered.

The whole fight shifted, with Max running ahead and everyone else following after. Arc put up a stonewall and Refia sang, encouraging everyone around her. Monica shot magic at the knight's face.

* * *

Monica yelled for space and Max ran.

He wasn't sure where, but there was a light ahead, and light sometimes meant open space. So he made that his goal and moved, occasionally shooting a bullet at the wall to keep the black knight's attention. Toan and a plate-wearing guy soon appeared at Max's side, letting him hang back a little to shoot a little more and move a little less.

Max stopped when they entered a new room and the Water Crystal filled his view. It was breathtaking, with countless facets and a deep, hidden core that emitted light even though it was by all other appearances a normal—if a little oversized—hunk of crystal.

But it filled him with a strange sense of peace and awe. Now he could see why—

Something grazed his shoulder and Max tumbled to his knees. The knight was more focused on Toan's sword and the plate guy's spear, but apparently he was still finding a way to hit peripherals. Max leveled his gun again, aiming carefully so as to not shoot his friends.

* * *

The black knight again. Arc reached into what reserves he had left, and felt the change to Bard. Not his favorite class, but it would get the job done. His mana was running low, and he had to use something that allowed him to save what remained of his reserves for later.

The cavern lit up with the various spells, but the black knight didn't look fazed. Instead he stood ready, blades tensed in his hands. Arc shivered at the memory of them as he changed to bard. The harp in his hands felt unfamiliar and he coughed a couple of times to clear his throat.

Bard had always made him feel like an idiot. But it wasn't like he had a lot of options, so he started to play. His music blended with Refia's, and together the harmony sounded in encouragement to their companions.

Ingus glowed with the offered power, the boost of it sending him propelling forward with his bloodsword and ramming into the black knight's back. Ingus leaped back, flinging blood from his blade. Monica and her blonde friend moved in sync, trading off magic and gun shots with wrench and sword, one leaping in while the other shot and then switching off.

Monica glowed with a dark aura.

Arc and Refia's music continued to fill the room, notes playing in frantic succession, offering a source of courage. It had a way of making the blood flow, of making those who heard it want to move, want to _win._ Arc sang, ancient lyrics becoming a chant in his ears, the Bard's soul guiding him in proper intonation and volume.

The knight never stood a chance.

There were so many bearing down on Aga at the same time, that he could barely let out one blow before half a dozen people hit him back.

Except for Luneth, who stood motionless.

* * *

Luneth remained still. Stunned. His presence here was pointless. They all left him behind, the wall of earth barely brushing his clothes as they passed. No one noticed him falling behind. He moved to follow, footsteps sluggish.

They entered the Crystal's residence, blue light glowing over everything. Arc joined Refia in her song, his tenor complimenting her soprano.

Luneth couldn't make out their words. He could barely hear them over the blood pounding in his ears.

He was _helpless._

The knight struck Monica in the face and blood splattered the ground before the knight turned his attention back to Max.

Luneth screamed, reaching inside for the power of the Evoker. He needed to _help_! To _do something_! The Crystals' power resisted, shying away from his grasp. He wasn't meant to change like this, so suddenly and forcefully. A part of him _knew_ that. He could only hasten the process so far before it started to push back.

He could almost see that old man's face, and hear the words in his voice: "Embrace it, don't turn away. Don't run. You have to _accept_ it, let in without any fear."

A bunch of self-righteous garbage. Luneth ripped the job's soul out and turned Evoker.

* * *

While it was amusing to watch the baby fairy flounder with its essence, it was not so amusing to be shunted out of every vessel, _again_. Forced to bide time, watching from beneath the fabric of reality, _again_.

Monica was weakening. He took the opportunity, tried to coax her into letting him in, and he was getting close, but the adrenaline caused by bloodlust and the heat of battle was doing irritating things to her defenses. They weakened in some ways, yes, since she wasn't thinking straight, but she also felt the typical need to resist, no matter what she was resisting _against._

"I'm here," a whisper in her ear as she almost got impaled again. "It's helpless as you are. But with the power that you know I can bring…"

The scholar kid, he was hopeless. There were a couple of openings before, during their travels. Times when he was almost consumed, not by hatred of the Void or the situation, but by hate of self. Like father, like son. It had looked good at the time—it even got close. But then his friends intervened and restored his drive to continue on.

And from there, doors just kind of _shut._

Monica finally let him in a little bit. That would help, for it was a seed that could be grown, though it would do nothing right at this moment.

These children. The Warriors of Light, who had each been taken from their time in order to _open_ the way to hatred, not to destroy its hold in the West. That infuriating boy from Norune, who escaped the fate of being cloistered away in the West like his brother, of joining his father in despair, or even of being destroyed along with his mother and village. And the _time travelers_ , who weren't satisfied merely to eradicate the root of hatred in the past, but now sought it _everywhere_ it might spring.

At every turn, the Crystals stood opposed. Sealing every avenue to freedom. At least the Warriors of Darkness were finally out of the way, but these accursed champions of Light were _legion_.

… Wait, what was little Luneth doing?

Though drawing on his true essence had rendered him immune to attack, it had also dimmed the protective crystalline light within him. This little detail should have been irrelevant, but…

But now he was suppressing that essence once more, reaching desperately to draw humanity back over it. The Crystal's shield was down, the fae heart crippled and exposed. It should have been impossible, given what he was, for him to ever become susceptible to outright control.

And yet, here little Luneth was, vulnerable as a Tuesday. Heh.

Eheheh.

Hahahaha!

 _AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!_

* * *

The cure evaporated in Luneth's hands. The battle before him seemed to _freeze_ in place, as if time itself stopped.

An echoing laugh ripped through his soul, cold and hateful. An awful, ragged voice said, "I have you now, little fairy."

Terrible pain cut through to his soul and Luneth opened his mouth to scream.

Nothing came.

* * *

So, this was how it was to end. Simba stared at his younger self, and felt… nothing. What was there to feel? The Cloud hadn't even left this moment, this point of time, and already he could taste the shockwaves screaming through time itself. Simba had failed, so thoroughly, so irrevocably…

"Congratulations," Simba sighed, "You've won." He could hear the cries of his younger self, raging against the hatred that held him caged.

 _I'm sorry,_ Simba whispered.

 _Help me!_

 _I tried. I'm sorry…_

"It's your own fault, you know," the Cloud told him, hissing across the Link, grinning, "If it weren't for your meddling, he never would have become susceptible to me. So I just have to say _thank you_ , Simba."

Violet sparked in his heart. Simba closed his eyes, snuffing the sickening lights. It was easy, now. Soon, though, the ripples would hit him. Once the Cloud started ripping through time…

"Poetic, isn't it? How in trying to protect yourself, you brought about your own destruction? Mm, the irony is _delicious_."

Simba watched tendrils of potential spread from his fingertips. The eyes of the dungeon lords turning red. The Crystals, all gone. All magic corrupted, twisting the world into an endless playground for pure hatred, until all timelines converged on nothingness. The final victory of the Void.

A small spark of light, his own past and future. Unable to do anything but watch.

Luneth could see it too. The Cloud had shut him away from the Crystals, yanking free his fae side and shackling him to it. He started to see time. He started to panic.

 _Shh,_ Simba whispered, _remember that you are old. Remember the good. The Cloud can remove its existence, but she cannot take your memory of it._

 _No!_

 _It's all you have_. Oh, dear, was he _pleading_ now? _You will lose your friends. You will lose your world. You may even lose your will. But you can keep your memory._

 _NO!_

"Please," Simba said, trying not to choke on tears, "You only have until he destroys it. Once that happens, you will forever lose everything that you haven't recalled."

"You should listen to the old man," the Cloud said, "Soon, he'll be nothing but a memory, too."

The Cloud dissipated, gleefully jumping into realms that ought to be forever closed to her. Simba tried to hold the doors shut, but to no avail. More violet sparks in his heart. They didn't snuff as easily as the first.

* * *

The world shifted.

Toan's mouth and nose filled with smoke. He coughed, trying to get away, but the wind itself seemed to be made of ash. He couldn't breathe.

Foot caught on something heavy. He tumbled to the ground, and found air again, beneath the whirling smoke above. His elbows were scraped from the fall, and there was coarse grass beneath his fingertips. Toan looked back to see what he'd tripped over—

And immediately looked away, desperately pushing down the urge to throw up.

A mangled body lay under his shin, warm blood seeping through his pant leg. Unidentifiable pieces of it were strewn all around. Some looked like bits of skin. Others were… probably other things.

The worst part was that he could feel it still breathing.

Toan crawled forward, his thoughts frozen, trying to tune out the near—silent gasps that his ears had found. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could do. There was nothing…

A dark boot emerged from the haze ahead. A moment later, the smoke cleared.

Luneth looked down at Toan with eyes a deep, unbroken red. He— _it_ —smirked as it reached down toward him.

Toan rolled to his feet, drawing the Chronicle II and slashing all in one motion.

The blade stopped so fast that it vibrated.

The Dark Genie grasped the blade in its gloved hand. Sparks of electric violet and orange energy clashed where the metal had cut through the glove and contacted Luneth's skin, but the Dark Genie didn't even twitch. It just grinned wider. Fairies with shredded wings flocked in the sky. Hundreds, _thousands_ of bodies like the one he'd tripped over littered the plains, and there was a large city burning in the distance.

"Welcome to my world, boy."

The voice sounded much like Seda's did in that other time. Part of it was Luneth's voice, once excited and full of energy, now dead and flat. The other, more audible part was that of the genie, though it sounded almost… feminine compared to the inflection Toan heard in Seda's voice.

Toan tried to pull his sword back, but the Dark Genie ripped it out of his hand, nonchalantly tossing the weapon over its shoulder.

 _No._

He stumbled back, drawing his dagger.

The Dark Genie laughed so hard that tears formed at the corners of its eyes.

He knew it was futile, but he would _never_ give up. Toan lunged.

The blade started to warp before it touched Luneth's vest. The Dark Genie didn't even try to avoid the attack, even spreading its arms in a taunting gesture. This was a mistake, but Toan's momentum shoved him forward. The dagger twisted into little more than a hunk of metal, and a shockwave ran up his arm, numbing it even as he heard bones crack.

The dagger fell into the grass, and Toan couldn't feel the hand that dropped it.

Then the Dark Genie grabbed his throat, pulling him upright.

Toan glared into those red eyes, and knew it was the end.

"You Atlamillia brats," the Dark Genie said, "You're all the same."

"Please," Toan hissed through his constricted windpipe, "Could we skip the gloating this time?"

"No." The Genie tightened its grip, cutting off Toan's voice entirely, "I wanted to thank you, little gnat. The flailing of yourself and your friends has given me something that I never _dreamed_ I could have—the power of the Fairy King himself! And to show my gratitude…" it released him, "… I'm going to let you go."

"W—wha—" Toan gasped, rubbing at his bruised throat.

"I have everything I ever wanted. Every moment, every timeline, every bit of power that I could possibly obtain, it's all mine. This is a new time _scape_ , distinct from the one you know, and entirely under my control. So take your little sword, boy from Norune, and run back to where I am powerless. I don't care—I no longer exist there."

Toan just stood, dumbfounded. He had _no_ idea what this thing was saying.

Luneth's red eyes narrowed, "Oh, of course. I've forgotten the limits of mortal minds. Very well, I will try to use words that you understand—this is _my_ world. You can use the Chronicle II to go back to _your_ world. There, I will be in your past, but I will never again be in your future. Nor will the Fairy King."

Oh. Okay, then he just needed to go to the past and—

"And don't bother trying to save this fool by going back in time and preventing him from making himself susceptible to me. Your going back will create a new timeline, and neither he nor I can exist in any new timelines there. Your Fairy King is _here_ , boy, and here he will stay. You cannot come back for him, you cannot change his fate, and you cannot separate us."

Toan frowned, "What do you mean I can't come back for him?"

The Dark Genie nodded toward the Chronicle II, "That's a one—way journey, though I'm certain it will only let you go home if you understand what you're leaving behind. This is all very simple, little gnat—you can have a world without the Dark Genie. All you need to do is accept that you can't save this one thing."

"What do you get out of this?" Toan asked, "You can't expect me to believe that you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart—you are literally _made of evil_."

Its smile faded, "I don't gain legions of human followers through force alone, boy. I keep my promises, and I pay my debts. _That_ is what I am doing right now. This is not a world you want to live in—I suggest you leave while you have the chance."

Toan looked into the clouded eyes of Arc's friend, and grabbed his shoulder, "You're the older brother that I never got the chance to be. I _will not_ leave you."

"They're the same age, mortal." The Dark Genie grimaced, and pushed Toan's hand away, "The door remains open so long as you don't lose that sword. Stay as long as you'd like, if you're truly so inclined. But know that my debt to you is paid."

Toan cringed against a sudden blinding flash of light. When the spots cleared from his vision, Luneth was gone.

Fine, then. He retrieved the Chronicle II, and covered his mouth with his poncho as smoke started swirling back in. This place was just beginning to smell of death—he needed to get out of here before it became overwhelming.

Toan turned toward where he was pretty sure he'd seen the city, and started walking. It was clear he was going to need all of his friends to have a chance at freeing Luneth from the Genie's control, but first he needed to find them. And before doing that, he needed to find everyone in that city who _couldn't_ protect themselves.

 _I'll figure out how to save you, Luneth. And in the meantime, I'll save everyone else._

That thought gave him the strength to push on through that day.

And the next day.

And the next.


	19. Chapter 19

" _Can you hear them, Toan? Voices of the trees... voices of the rocks... voices of the wind... they are all asking you to save us!"—_ Fairy King

Toan paused, looking over the city of Queens. Even from here, he could feel the flames and smell the scorched bodies of Matataki. He couldn't tell how much of that was his imagination and how much of it was actually still reaching him even here. He turned to Xiao to ask for her opinion—

And remembered she was gone.

With a sigh, Toan squared his shoulders and continued on into the city. It was the first stable site of civilization he'd found after meeting the Genie in Luneth's body, and even though it appeared to be in the middle of a revolt of some kind, he wondered if maybe he could find some food. He'd found some berries and nuts to eat in the forest, but the plants were unusually barren around here. Perhaps it had something to do with the civil war going on between the fae in the region.

Queens was alive with the sound of chaos. People clamored, crowding in the streets, yelling for answers, for money, for jobs. They banged on government doors and broke windows with large stones. Toan kept his head down, avoiding attention.

A cat yowled and Toan started, expecting to see Xiao's spotted tan coat. Instead, a grungy, black cat darted past him, away from a group of thugs beating up an older man.

Toan drew his sword.

"Hey!" he said, rushing in, Chronicle at the ready. The thugs took a moment to notice him, leaving the older man to crawl away. Toan noted the blood splattered on the wall and bit back a snarl of disgust as he pummeled one of the thugs in the stomach with the hilt of his sword and smacked the other in the face with the flat of the blade.

They quickly scampered away, throwing insults behind them.

Toan turned to the old man, reaching a hand out. "Hello," he said. "Are you—?"

The old man grunted, slapping his hand away and grabbing a bag of coins from the floor before taking off himself, hobbling away despite his obvious injuries.

Toan remained, stunned. Enraged civilians continued yelling all around him and screams pealed through the city.

The Chronicle II felt heavy in Toan's hand. What was he supposed to do? He had to find a way to free Luneth, to get the Genie out. But how could he do that without being able to even _talk_ to anyone?

"Over here!"

Toan whirled. The thugs from before returned, this time bringing several friends.

Six men. Varying frames, most looking a little starved. One of them looked strangely like Jake from the Queens that Toan knew.

 _Oh, no._

In the dark of the alleyway, they threw themselves at him. Toan responded accordingly, dancing out of the way of one hit, then another, and another—

Bulky arms grabbed him by the throat and choked the life from his lungs. Toan made a strangled cry, working to loose the arms from his neck to no avail.

"Nice sword," one of them remarked, pulling the Chronicle from his hands. They then let out a startled cry and dropped it to the ground again as the sword pulsed a violent red glow. The guy gripped his burned palm. "What are you trying to pull, kid?!"

"Think you can just take our food from us, do you?" the Jake-lookalike asked. He pulled a small knife from his boot while the thug holding Toan pulled a cloth against his mouth, gagging him. Toan struggled as Jake pressed the knife to his face. "Think you can just make fools of us, do you?"

 _I can't die here. I can't die here. I can't die here. I can't die here!_

Toan strained against the guy's grip even as the knife pricked the side of his face. It wasn't the first time he'd faced death. His chest still tingled when he thought about the skeleton in the Divine Beast Cave, when he first realized how quickly and how easily he could just _stop being alive_. One wrong step, and he could have had that sword buried in his chest.

This wasn't any different. Getting worked up about it only decreased his ability to find a way out. He had to calm down and keep a level head.

 _Calm. Find a happy place. Happy place. Norune._ Burning _._

 _No! Think of Xiao! She'd be laughing at you by now!_

Toan fell limp against the thug. The knife paused. _Calm. Don't do anything to elevate heart rate. Don't move. Focus._

"Uh, what's he doing?"

"I don't know, what do you _think_ he's doing?"

Toan locked eyes with Jake. He didn't have much experience in dealing with criminals outside of gullible scumbags like King. He was more familiar with bloodthirsty monsters and timeless creatures.

But he knew that eye contact with any race was dangerous. It was a sign of aggression and defiance. And predators saw that as a cue to remind everyone of _why_ _they_ were the boss.

Jake growled and aimed the knife again before thrusting it forward.

Toan yanked away at just the right time, causing the knife to land in his captor's wrist instead of Toan's heart area.

Screams and curses erupted and Toan was released. He went for his sword and ducked out amidst the ruckus brought on by Jake's slip.

"What was that, huh?!" his captor bellowed.

"He yanked you into the way! Don't pin that on me!"

Toan wasn't off of the hook. They wouldn't stop until he was down for good, now. One of the downsides to dealing with predators - irrational anger and rage had a way of doing this to people.

So he did what all smart prey did. He ran.

Thankfully, he had one of them on his tail. If he could get hurt and play dead, maybe they would leave him—

A presence closed in and Toan turned.

Not one. Two.

Jake and one of his friends approached, murder in their eyes. Toan grit his teeth and stopped, turning to face them. "I never took you for a heartless killer," Toan said, spinning the Chronicle in his hands. "You were always a jerk, but never _this_ petty."

"What's he talking about?" the friend asked.

Jake growled. "He's just playing tricks on you. Don't listen to him."

He might yet be able to bluff his way out. Time to figure something out. "Come on, Jake! Don't stoop to the same level as these guys! You're better than this!"

Both froze. "How do you know my name?" Jake demanded. Perhaps this wouldn't be so helpful. But at least Toan now knew it _was_ him.

"We were…" Not friends. "Acquaintances. Before."

"Before _what_?"

Toan spread his arms in what he hoped was a placating gesture, though he kept the Chronicle gripped tightly in his hands. "You don't remember?"

More footsteps approached. Jake's face darkened. "I won't fall for that!" He rushed forward and Toan swallowed. This wasn't going the way he hoped.

The Chronicle seemed to vibrate as the now-four-man gang came at him. Toan slashed easily through two of them, who stumbled away, leaving Jake and the big guy that had held Toan. They hung back for a moment, darting glances at their comrades. Toan didn't take his eyes off of Jake.

The big guy leapt forward, but Toan easily slipped out of his way and plunged the Chronicle into the guy's back.

That left Jake.

"What in the name of _Terra_?" one of the gangsters muttered. Toan spared a glance to see the guys he dropped stand again without a speck of blood on them.

Jake took the opening to get in a blow, cutting open Toan's side with his dagger. Toan cursed, leaping back. Despite the nonexistent reach on that knife, Jake proved surprisingly efficient, forcing Toam further back with a flurry of strikes aimed straight for Toan's chest.

Thankfully, Jake was distracted. He kept casting annoyed glances around him toward the other thugs.

Toan felt his insides twist. The Jake Toan knew wasn't the purest soul he knew, but at least with King, he had some semblance of dignity to him. To see him stooping to such levels here...

He didn't want to kill the guy.

Toan used the Chronicle to slap Jake's dagger from his hands, then cut straight through Jake's torso, which should have split him in half. The Chronicle had a habit of cutting through things like bone when other things couldn't.

But instead Jake somehow remained standing, though his eyes glazed over. Toan glanced around. The rest of the gang had retreated. Why weren't any of Toan's hits sticking?

"You…" Jake said, voice low, "... Are the biggest weirdo I know."

Despite his instincts telling him to leave, Toan hesitated. Jake sounded… different. Somehow.

"Was this you?" Jake asked. "Did you take us all to this place?"

Toan slowly shook his head.

"Weird things happen around you," Jake continued. He stepped forward, hunched over as if in great pain. Perhaps he was. Toan _did_ just slice through his ribcage. "Put me back." Jake didn't look quite so angry anymore. Just really, _really_ confused. And… was that fear in his eyes?

"You remember now?" Toan asked. "You _know_ me?"

" _Terra_ , no," Jake shook his head. "But I've seen you before. And last time was weird enough. Is this a dream you've put me under? Are you trying to glean information from me? Because it won't work, all this mind-screwing stuff. _Put me back_."

The dangerous tone crept back into Jake's voice. He flexed his arms, straightening to his full height. The intimidator that worked for King was back. Toan could still beat him easily, if he had a working sword. But apparently the Chronicle wasn't entirely functional right now, and Toan had no experience in hand-to-hand if Jake decided to pick a real fight.

Unsure how else to respond, Toan ran again.

Queens passed him by, its voices echoing after him. His heart beat in his ears, the stench of blood stuck in his nose. He tried to block it out with his poncho, but even it was stained red. Blood everywhere.

He gripped the sword harder in his hands as he ran. The Genie had said he could use it to teleport somewhere else. To home. He could just be gone if he wanted. What was the point of saving this world if he had to take lives in order to do it? Maybe he _was_ better off in his own world and in his own time. Maybe this realm, or whatever it was, was doomed. Maybe… maybe there really was nothing he could do.

The sword vibrated violently in his hands, opposing the wish to leave. But it seemed to listen to his wishes, like how it didn't kill any of those guys. Toan could feel… he could override it and leave this place. If he really wanted to.

… Could he? Toan ducked into another alley, this one empty of murderous gangs. He stared down at the sword. He slumped, sliding down the wall until he found his knees. The Genie was right. Toan _didn't_ want to stay here. It was terrible and full of violence. Humanity, driven by anger, tended to do horrible things.

Toan didn't know that he could handle seeing any worse than this.

Moments passed. Toan gripped the sword tighter. It resisted the wish to go back, vibrating as if to speak back to him.

 _You can still change this._

But could he? He didn't even have any friends or help this time.

 _No. But you can find them._

Toan looked down at the sword, which gleamed cleanly in the light. _How_? he thought.

 _I'll show you._

The sword hummed.

And the world around Toan vanished.

* * *

The Chronicle Sword took Toan to a shady town full of dark and dirty streets. Rats scurried in the shadows, and voices murmured distantly in discontent. Toan swallowed as he walked down a small road, hidden mostly in mist. The place was foggy, which meant he was probably near a river. But he didn't recognize the place at all besides that.

It certainly smelled bad, regardless. Like manure and rotten food.

Few wandered these streets, and those who did kept their heads down and their eyes shadowed. Everyone's clothes were dirty and their hair unkempt. It was like one of the ghettos in Queens, where all the poorest congregated.

Beyond the unpleasant atmosphere and aroma, Toan wasn't sure who or what exactly he was looking for. The sword couldn't talk to him like a person, though it did seem to be at least partially sentient.

For once, Toan wished he still had a telepathic link to the Fairy King. He could use some guidance right now instead of the general hunches he was forced to work with, even if it was mixed into an hour-long lecture.

At least this place was a little more controlled than Queens. The worst he got was suspicious and unwelcoming stares instead of knives in his face. His side still seeped blood thanks to his encounter with Jake and his goons.

That is, until a knife appeared at his neck and a girl's voice whispered in his ear, "Come quietly or you die here and now."

Toan hesitated, thinking. He could try taking her out. But that would be dangerous, and he was already a little tired of playing with blades. So Toan let her drag him into the shadow of a nearby shop, knife pressed to his throat.

She gestured for Toan to open the door and he did so, moving his arm carefully so as to avoid stretching the skin any tighter against the girl's dagger. The door swung open, creaking just slightly, to reveal a modest butcher shop.

"You're closed," the girl said to the desk keeper. Toan recognized her voice, but she kept behind him, making it difficult to pinpoint where from without the benefit of her face. Coins clattered and shutters closed. Footsteps retreated as the shopkeepers decided to take a break upstairs. The girl shoved Toan into a chair and his breath caught as the back collided with his spine.

That was going to bruise. Toan rubbed at his back as the girl watched him. She pulled a second dagger and pointed both blades at him, eyes narrowed. The sky was overcast outside, casting deep shadows inside the shop. A fire crackled in the hearth, though, and that provided enough illumination to make out the girl's features.

He recognized her. She was in the cave when time changed - one of the Warriors of Light. He recognized the reddish hair, even though her clothes were drastically different. Black, sturdy trousers and tunic replaced the gayish garb from before and her face was set into harsher lines.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"No one," Toan said quickly. "Just passing through."

"Yeah, right. You're dressed like you're from Norune, and Norune is part of the Empire. They're all just menial laborers, but I've been fooled before"

"Empire?"

"Don't play stupid! Did my mother send you?"

"No! I don't even know who your mother is!"

"Liar!" She slashed and Toan moved by instinct, yanking out the Chronicle Sword. It deflected her dagger. He stood and pushed her back, sword and knife scraping together.

"I'm not here to hurt you!" he said. "I'm your friend! I helped you in another life!"

They stood for a moment, blades locked together. Toan glanced at the glowing, red lines running through the Chronicle and thought of what it did to Jake. Would it do the same thing here?

His train of thought derailed when the girl used her free dagger to stab him in the shoulder.

The Chronicle dropped, metal ringing like crystal as it clattered to the ground.

"I'm not playing around," the girl said, a dangerous edge creeping into her voice as she kneeled down to Toan's level. She kicked the Chronicle away and lifted one dagger to the edge of his chin, forcing Toan to look her in the eye. "No more playing dumb. Who do you work for?"

"No one," Toan managed, shutting one eye against the pain in his shoulder. It felt like his whole arm was on fire. "The Dark Genie…"

"You work for the Genie?"

"No!" Toan bit out. He clamped his teeth shut, a cold sweat dampening his skin. He was going into shock. "No. It sent me here, taunted me with…"

A blue light appeared in the girl's hands and Toan scrambled back, earning himself a small cut from the tip of her dagger. If she was as powerful here as she was when Toan saw her before, then—

She easily stopped him, whipping her hand to his shoulder. Toan shut his eyes and set his jaw, ready for more pain and possibly death, but instead felt a soothing coolness flood his system. He blinked his eyes open again, looking between the cure and the girl. She didn't look at him, keeping her eyes fixed on his shoulder instead.

"Healing magic," she said. "I'm not going to kill another one of the Genie's victims."

Toan stilled, watching the flesh knit together at his shoulder. "Wow," he said. "I've never seen that before."

She glanced at him, then pulled her hand back. The coolness left, as did the pain. Toan rolled his arm in its socket, marveling at the smoothness of it. The wound in his side also vanished. "Thanks," he said. "It feels great."

Then the dagger appeared at his throat again. "Really?" he asked.

"Now you know," the girl said. "I'll kill you if you're not who you say you are."

"I kinda got that in the street…"

"Answers!"

Toan sighed, glancing longingly at the Chronicle II. If only he could get in just one swing… "Okay," he said. "Fine. Just… a little space, please."

The girl narrowed her eyes, but took a step back. She kept close to the Chronicle, though, so it didn't help any in _that_ regard. "I'm from Norune," Toan said. "But not the Norune that you know."

"Time traveler?" the girl asked. "Haven't seen many of those around."

"Not just time," Toan said. "I stepped into this time _line_ from a completely different one. I think. He was really unclear on the specifics…"

The girl frowned. She didn't look convinced. "Where'd you get the weapon?" she asked.

"Fairy King."

"Ha ha. Not funny."

Simba didn't exist in this timeline, Toan realized with a sudden chill. Or, not in the way he used to. Here he and the Dark Genie were one and the same. Toan had a sneaking suspicion that telling this girl that things were different for him would prove futile at best.

At worst, she would probably just lob his head off right there and then.

"A friend," Toan corrected. "I'm not sure about its origins, but the man who provided it to me died around the same time." It was technically true. "I've kept it safe with me ever since."

The girl hummed. "Okay, fine. What does it do?"

Toan shook his head. "It's kind of strange. Sometimes it kills people, sometimes it revives them. I'm honestly not sure how it works."

"Really."

"Yes," Toan said, gesturing. "Try it, if you're so unsure. Take it across your arm or something. Perhaps you have a bruise or something you want to fix? It seems to work depending on what you want it to do."

The girl gave him a flat look. "I have healing magic."

"But it doesn't use mana!" Toan huffed, then slumped. "Fine. I'll test it. Just to make you feel better."

The girl looked thoughtful for a moment, then picked up the Chronicle and tossed it at him. Toan deftly grabbed it in one hand just before something flashed in the air. He hauled himself to his feet, locking eyes with the girl. She shrugged.

"Barrier," she said. "Not exactly going to let you kill me with that."

Toan reached out a hand to touch the air, and felt it press against something hard. It felt like… something the Fairy King would make. He'd never seen another human do something similar. He looked at the girl again. Her red eyes reminded him of someone else…

"Well?"

Right. Toan took a deep breath. He didn't know what it would do to someone who already remembered, so he found himself a touch hesitant. But it was the best shot he had.

Toan tested the sword on his arm, barely touching the skin with the edge of the blade.

Nothing happened.

He cut deeper, pressing the blade straight through his flesh. Something inside him vibrated, resisting the motion, but the skin didn't split open or start spilling any blood. Toan held in a shaky breath, watching the metal drop straight through him.

The girl was giving him a strange look, brows knit together and mouth hanging slightly open.

"See?" Toan said, letting the Chronicle fall idle at his side. "Harmless."

The air around him flashed again, Toan found he could pass through the air now. The girl regarded him with suspicion, but the previous hostility had all but vanished. "Try it," Toan said, pointing the blade right at her. "It's actually kind of weird."

Her eyes flickered toward the orange-lit blade that Toan held mere inches from her chest. "Weird," she said.

Toan nodded.

And lunged.

The girl whipped up her daggers, but it was too late. Toan plunged the sword clean through her person.

And like before, nothing happened. Or, the sword cut through her, but it met no resistance. It just kind of… passed through her image, leaving Toan to trip and hit the ground, Chronicle clattering in front of him. He scrambled to his feet again, watching the girl. It would be awkward if it didn't work. But at least she wasn't dead.

The girl blinked, red eyes refocusing. She breathed a little harder, and then looked at him as if seeing for the first time. She ignored the sword behind him and took an unsteady step toward Toan.

"Who?" she asked. Her face went pale. "No. This—this isn't right. This isn't—"

"It wasn't supposed to happen," Toan said. He knew the feeling. "Now, please remind me, which one were you again?"

"... Refia," she said as if she was just realizing it herself. "Heir to the Raybrandt line. Fugitive. Blacksmith. Princess. Warrior of Light. No. None of those. No. All of those. What—what was that?"

"I'm not sure, actually," Toan said. "But you should probably sit down. Sounds like you need a moment to process this."

"I… we were in the cave."

"Yes."

"Fighting the black knight."

"Yes."

"And then… Something happened. Luneth disappeared."

"And now we need to find the others and bring them back." Toan sighed, taking a seat again. "I'm hoping that once we're all together again, then we can find a way to help Luneth. I'm still working this all out, honestly."

Refia settled into a chair, eyes darting about. "What's wrong with him?"

"The Dark Genie has him as his vessel." Toan said. "I can't touch him and I don't know how to get him out of Luneth's body, but maybe the others will have an idea. Problem is, my sword can take me places, but I can't control when or where. It took me to you, but I don't know how to make it do that again."

"I might," Refia said. "I've been time-traveling for the past… I don't know how long, actually. It's impossible to track. But I can get us where you need to go. My family has connections and resources, and I didn't leave them empty-handed."

"You left? Left where?"

Refia smiled wanly. "Mother didn't like the fact that I couldn't rule like she could, so she ordered me killed, along with my father. So I ran away."

"The Empire you mentioned?"

Refia nodded, expression hardening. "Aga's been hunting me across the ages, trying to fulfill the Genie's orders. I've barely been able to stay in one place longer than a week before he catches up to me. Speaking of, you should also probably watch yourself. If the Genie knows you're on the move, he's going to want to track you down and kill you, too."

"He didn't kill me when I got here."

"This timeline is different—"

"It _was_ in this timeline," Toan said.

Refia did a double-take. "What?"

"When I talked to Luneth—or, the Genie in Luneth's body, he said he wouldn't kill me. Not that I believe him. He's probably already changed his mind."

"Then we should get moving," Refia said, standing. She pulled a strange device out of her pocket. "Who do you want to start with?"

Toan shook his head. "Anyone would be a big help. I was thinking maybe Arc should be first, though. He might be best for figuring out what to do about Luneth, and I figure freeing Luneth takes priority."

"Well then," Refia said. "We'll have to get some information first."

"Information?" Toan asked. "From where?"

Refia grabbed her dagger again and jammed it into the table, eye twitching. "From my lovely mother."

* * *

Alarms blared.

Monica's eye twitched as a female, robotic voice said, "Warning: intrusion detected. Warning: intrusion detected. Warning—"

Someone had gotten into the palace, apparently. Fine. Monica would have them beheaded within the hour. She snapped the pencil in her hand as the electronic warning repeated itself.

"Will someone shut that wretched noise off?" she yelled.

"We're trying, Highness!"

"Stop _trying_ and just _do it!_ "

She left the throne room, a dozen guards rushing after her. If there was someone coming for her, then odds were that their target was the room they were in. Better to get out and find somewhere they didn't expect her to be.

"If you see anyone," she said to the two flanking her, "Shoot first, ask questions later. I can't have anyone getting in the way this time."

"Yes, Highness!"

The hallways were lit with red—they were entering lockdown. If she didn't hurry, Monica could get stuck in the hallway instead of her safe room and that would just be _unacceptable_. She quickened her pace and the guards matched her.

"Mom!" a girl's voice shouted. "Mom, where are you?"

Monica froze as a strawberry-blonde girl appeared in the corridor. She looked to be in her mid-teens. Monica didn't know who she was, but she looked strangely familiar. A lot like Max, actually.

 _You're not going to risk it all on a lost child, are you?_

"What are you waiting for?" Monica asked, directing her attention to the guards. "Kill her!"

Shots fired, their deafening blasts suddenly filling the corridor. The girl whirled at the sound and the bullets stopped at an invisible barrier. She must have been using an advanced wind technique to do that.

The girl stepped forward and said with a loud voice, "I was hoping we wouldn't have to do it this way, Mother."

 _She shouldn't be here._

"You shouldn't be here," Monica said.

Refia continued to come forward, barrier moving just ahead of her. The bullets did nothing with that thing up.

She was blood, alright. No one from another line could use those powers.

"We need information, Mother," Refia said. "I was wondering if you would comply."

Monica hissed. Anyone descended from the Raybrandt line was notoriously hard to kill. Her father would be hard enough to get rid of, and he wasn't even descended from Ruby.

And it looked like her daughter deliberately came back at a time when their ages and experience would be matched, if not outright favoring Refia's side.

"Where do you keep Arc?" Refia asked. She looked so calm behind her barrier, as if she didn't have a dozen experienced rifles trained on her person, waiting for the precise moment when she would waver and be shot dead on the spot. "You told me about him once, said he was valuable. You told me to be careful with him, so as to not lose the scientist behind our armies. I remember it all, Mother."

"By the Stones!" Monica swore. Apparently her future self hadn't been concerned with keeping her daughter from being able to overturn Monica's entire regime that she'd spent so long establishing. Centuries of work! Gone!

"Where is he?" Refia repeated.

"I couldn't tell you," Monica said. "The mage was a gift to Flagg, and Flagg doesn't tend to divulge the location of his assets."

"Toan," Refia called.

What? Wasn't that the name of Aga's older child? The dead one?

A guy appeared, one she guessed to be from Norune. Only the Noruni colors were partly hidden under a dark cloak. Monica took out her sword as the brat charged. Rifles readied. The Norune kid would lose the protection of the barrier as soon as he passed Refia. Monica would just have to figure out what to do with the girl after Toan was a bloody mess on the floor.

Refia moved with Toan and the barrier shifted with him as he leapt forward, sword out.

Ammo hailed as Monica whipped out her sword to block Toan. Metal screamed as their blades collided. He glared at her, hatred burning in his eyes.

Monica twirled his blade out of the way with hers, but he simply used the motion to twist back at her.

She wasn't going to let this get in the way—everything was already lined up for Seda's murder tonight! She had patricide to commit, and then an empire to run! After that, she'd drawn up liner notes for total domination of the timeline.

 _Not tonight!_

Monica lashed out, punching toward Toan with her sword and forcing him back. It was reckless, she was leaving herself more open, but—

He slapped her sword away and dove in. Monica barely had time to deflect again before the sword landed in her chest and the world swam in her eyes. It didn't go dark, like it had last week when a servant tried to kill her. She'd promptly had that servant flayed, but it wasn't before she'd experienced a short kind of death. The Genie had brought her back screaming.

But this was different. Strange memories came to mind, memories she didn't like. Memories of a world that wasn't red, a world where she recognized the feeling of… trust. A world in which she was all too often…

… Powerless.

She looked back up at Toan. The corridor was silent. Her guards must have been knocked out. The Darkness gripping her heart hissed in pain. She cried out and lunged again at Toan, but he easily deflected. Because she was weakened, reeling, _failing_ to control the shock—

The sword sliced through her again, this time silencing the Darkness and bringing a strange flood of clarity to her mind.

Monica wobbled on her feet. She looked at Toan. Then to Refia. Toan poked her again with the sword and it rippled through her insides. She yelped, scrambling back. It felt so _weird._

"Monica?" Toan tried. They'd never gotten to know each other at all. As it was, most of what Monica knew about him came from the Genie's knowledge. She knew he was dangerous, skilled, and determined. Like a cockroach.

"Maybe," she responded, "I'm not really sure, actually. Should I know you?"

"Looks like she's back," Refia said. "Okay, let's try this again. Where is Arc?"


	20. Chapter 20

_"We are the Cloud of Darkness... We have come to return the world to the Void, to nothingness... We shall engulf everything in our shadow... And both light and darkness will return to the Void... Your light is strong..."_ \- Cloud of Darkness

With Refia's timeline-traveling thing and Monica's directions, the three of them found themselves on some steps leading into a large, foreboding tower with vines climbing up the walls and ravens perched on withered trees. A cold wind blew in from the north, blowing dead leaves across the broken, cobbled road.

"We prefer to keep him isolated," Monica said, holding her hair down against the wind. "He can be dangerous if kept too close."

"Right," Toan said as he climbed the stairs. He'd only caught a glimpse of Arc in the cave before everything changed, and he did manage to throw up a _wall_ of _earth_ from the ground. Evil Monica may have a point. Maybe his brother was a little more threatening than Toan had imagined.

Toan stepped up to the door and raised his hand to open it. But before he could do so, ice appeared, encasing the whole door and barring entrance.

"We also taught him not let any strangers in," Monica said.

Wonderful. Toan looked up. The windows would be hard to get to, not to mention that Arc would probably do the same ice trick to them. With a sigh, Toan rammed the hilt of the Chronicle into the door's handle, chipping away some of the ice. He tried the handle again, and that got it loose enough to turn, so he did.

And felt a sting in his palm, just like some choice chests did in his travels. Toan removed his hand, revealing a tiny little spike sticking out of the front of the door handle.

Poison.

Toan gave a tired sigh, pulling an antidote from his bag as he kicked the door open.

Inside, he found only a long, winding staircase leading a ways up. He took point, swallowing the antidote, and led the others upward. He stepped carefully, ready for more traps. The stairs had no railing, so if something knocked them off, it would prove to be a _long_ fall to the bottom.

But before he knew it, Toan found himself at the end of the stairs, staring into an opening in the ceiling.

Attic room.

The putrid scent of death and decaying bodies filled his nose. Toan covered his nose with his poncho again. He hadn't smelled it so strongly since he first entered the timeline. He slowly stepped over the last couple of planks, raking his eyes over the wood. Then _slowly_ climbed his way into the room. Still watching the stairs, he straightened and entered the room.

And promptly dropped his empty antidote bottle to the floor, causing it to shatter.

Dismembered body parts littered the room, some crudely sewn together, others scattered and stripped of skin. Dark, oily black blood stained the walls and tables, coloring the whole room blackish.

Behind him, he heard Refia heave. Monica didn't say anything. She stepped up next to him, taken by the spectacle. Her face was frozen in disgust, but she didn't flinch away like Refia.

Toan struggled to move forward. It was rather spacious. Tables lined every wall, covered in bubbling substances that were kept in strangely-shaped bottles and containers. He scanned the room, but it was hard to see where—

There. Tucked away underneath a table was a shivering, almost emaciated figure with matted brown hair and too-large robes.

"D—Don't come any closer!" Arc said, holding up a small dagger. "I—I have a weapon!"

Toan swallowed the lump in his throat, dropping his poncho. He started to raise a hand.

A feral kitten leapt out of the shadows, its tiny claws extended. Toan reacted by instinct, pulling out the Chronicle and swatting it away with the blunt of his blade. The kitten mewled as it hit the ground again. Toan stopped, seeing a familiar tan hue underneath all the dirt. "Wait," he said softly. "I'm not here to hurt you."

The kitten hissed, arching its back. Toan extended his hand. The cat swatted at it, ripping through his gloves, but leaving the skin intact.

"I'm Toan," he said. "What about you?"

It hesitated. Toan moved his attention to Arc, who pressed himself up against the wall. Dran's feathers, was his baby brother really so _tiny?_

"Calm down," Monica said impatiently. "You're making _me_ anxious."

"E—Empress!" Arc said, startling. Like he only just now saw her.

"Not Empress," Toan said, brandishing the Chronicle. "I think you know her as something else. Come on, I need you to step away from the wall."

Arc looked at the sword for a bit, then up at Toan, then back to the sword. He slowly climbed out of his hiding place, a defeated look on his face. He trembled, shivers racking his thin frame. His eyes were stuck on Monica, eyes wide and skin pale.

"Monica," Toan said, "perhaps it would be better if you moved a little more that way?"

"Why?"

"Because you're scaring him."

"Really?" Monica cast the boy a look, looking both confused and amused. "I never thought I'd ever have that effect on people."

Toan couldn't believe his ears. Was she always like this? How did the Atlamillia choose such a calloused user? Max made her sound like a completely different person. But then, maybe the second set of memories were carrying over into her new self. Maybe those possessed by the Dark Genie had a hard time letting go of their new selves?

"Monica," Toan said firmly.

She sighed, then moved to join Refia toward the back of the room. Refia apparently didn't want to get any closer than she had to.

"Arc," Toan softly. The boy looked up at him, still shaking uncontrollably. He gathered his coat about himself like a blanket and rubbed at his arms. His small size probably didn't hold in much heat. "What did they _do_ to you?"

Arc mumbled incoherently, hunching over.

Refia entered then, coming over and taking Arc in a hug. He squeaked in alarm, dropping his grip on his coat. Refia held him close, looking at Toan. "Do it," she said. " _Now_."

Arc glanced between them, confusion in his eyes. The cat pawed at Toan's boot, mewling as he tightened his grip on the Chronicle.

 _Right_.

"Refia," he said, everything coming to. Arc stood, leaning into Refia's hold on him. Papers, documents, and equipment surrounded him. The stench of blood was strong, the rotting flesh stronger. "Refia... What is this?"

He remembered the cave, the Crystal, and his father. He remembered a moment of relief that faded to mixed horror and disbelief. And then… blood. A lot of blood and bodies and death. And Flagg.

He _hated_ Flagg.

Arc looked down, feeling a strange sensation on his hands. His fingers were covered in a dark substance, the colors of which swirled in the light like oil. Fairy blood.

Arc looked down at the table closest to him. Body parts were scattered across, like the pieces of broken dolls. Arc looked back up at the brunette boy in front of him as it all sank in and the world tipped. He stumbled and his chest heaved. Refia held him tighter, keeping him upright.

Arc felt weak, fatigued. His arms were thinner than he remembered and his clothes felt baggy on his skin. A cat brushed at his leg, mewling pitifully.

"Where—?" Arc cut off as his stomach churned and threatened to empty of its contents. "Toan." he managed through the nausea, "Refia, what happened?"

"You don't remember?" Toan asked, sounding surprised.

"No. It's… it's all images. Vague distortions. Why? What happened?"

"I don't think you want to know," Toan said. He lifted his sword and brought it slashing down on the cat. Arc jumped in shock, tripping back on some equipment and almost bringing Refia down with him. But the cat didn't split in two. Instead she wobbled for a bit, shaking her head. Disoriented. Like he was.

"What _is_ that thing?" Arc asked, hefting himself to his feet again. He gestured to the orange sword in Toan's hands. "Is it magic?"

"You could say that," Refia said. She looked different than Arc remembered. Refia wore a _lot_ more black now.

Monica was also here, dressed in fancy clothes. She hung toward the room's entrance, tapping a finger against the doorframe.

The cat steadied again and looked up at Toan for a long time. "Mreow."

"Hello, Xiao," Toan said weakly. "Sorry I took so long."

" _Mrow!_ "

"It's awful, I know."

"Arc," Refia said, finally releasing him. "We need your help. Luneth's been taken by the Cloud of Darkness, and we don't know how to get it out. Do you know anything that might be able to get to him?"

Arc hesitated. Ideas came to mind even though he didn't remember discovering them, like muscle memory. "Uh, maybe. I—I can shake him out of it? Wait, no. There's a way to get into his mind, if I can just-"

"Great," Toan said. "Let's try that."

"Purl." The cat dashed away, tail swinging. She yowled when they didn't immediately follow. " _Mreooow!_ "

Toan and the two girls ran after Xiao, and Arc followed despite the frailty to this body. He remembered things being… heavy, in this life. Like he was dragging a weight constantly, hefting it on his back. He slowed down on the steps, wheezing. _Crystals_ , he thought, _what did I do to myself?_

"I should have you know," Arc said. He tried to shout, but it came off as more of a hoarse whisper. The others seemed to hear though, pausing in the stairwell. "The Darkness has forces that can leap across time. They'll be able to track us, maybe even kill us. They're not bound by limitations, and they know everything. They see everything! We'll never be safe!"

"We know!" Refia said. "We've already arranged for that!"

"How?"

She paused to let him catch up, then grabbed his hand. Monica ran back and took his other hand. And then the tower flashed out of sight.

* * *

Finding the rest of their party proved difficult. Toan's friends, like Refia's were scattered across the world, some of them in different time periods.

After roughly a dozen trips, however, Toan managed to gather the rest of the Crystal heroes together, even Max. He proved a little more difficult thanks to his connections with evil Monica. Thankfully, evil-turned-good Monica still had some tricks up her sleeve that helped with kidnapping him away from the other Monica.

And that finally marked the last of their little excursions.

Under Refia's guidance, they'd managed to find a quiet little town in some obscure time that provided a secure-ish tavern to settle down in. Morning light seeped in through the windows, pooling on the floor and casting a silver light to the room. The hearth was cold and quiet, and everyone sat, scattered around the room. They all watched Toan.

"They're going to be here soon," Ingus said solemnly. Toan and the others had managed to retrieve him from a position at the head of an army about to ride into certain death. "What do you plan to do?"

Toan rested his chin on his fingers. Everyone expected him to come up with a magical solution. He'd managed to find everyone, though not all of who they were in their real lives remained. They were all more cynical to varying levels—Ingus being the worst—and some, like Arc and Goro, were hardly even capable of fighting.

They'd managed to restore a little of Arc's body mass, but Goro was slowly dying from a poison with no cure and could barely use one half of his body. Ruby was a little brain-damaged from centuries of neglect inside her lamp. Xiao was a cat again—a malnourished one at that—and Ingus was missing some fingers and toes.

It was like trying to plant an entire field with only a quarter of the necessary seeds.

"I'm open to ideas," Toan said at length.

"Let's review the situation," Monica said, taking the front, the beads in her hair clinking together. "We have an army of darkness on our tail, some infinitely strong, and the window between our jumps and theirs is closing. The Genie is flooding all of time with them, and we still need his body slash vessel before we can continue. We need to find a way to lure him here so I can help Arc get into his mind."

"What's the point of that again?" Goro asked. "We're supposed to bring the Genie here so the empress maniac can help the basket case do some parlor tricks?"

"Oh, come on!" Ruby exclaimed. "When are you going to get the point that it's not _tricks_? Would you say me shoving you into that wall is atrick?"

"Hey!" Osmond said, joining Monica. He was in the best shape of all of them. "We're not here for threats! No shoving into walls allowed! Monica, how about you explain how that all works real quick and get these idiots to shut up?"

Monica nodded, and took a seat beside Toan. Everyone's attention turned to her. "It's something available to those with special roots," she said. "The Fairy King—or, Luneth, I should say—can do it, I can do it, and Refia can do it. But since I'm a little more practiced, I'll be the one helping Arc. It's a spell meant to create a link between minds, a dimension in which only those linked minds can enter. Some of you have met the Fairy King this way in your original lives."

"Wait," Max said, holding up a hand. "Didn't you do that to me, too?"

Monica nodded. "That's how we met."

"And you can activate it via a third person?" Osmond asked.

"Yes. I'll be giving Arc instructions on how to get in, and then after that it's all up to him."

"But," Goro said, "What does it _do_?"

"I just told you," Monica said. "Stop talking."

"Either way, we need to break Luneth out," Toan said. "Just like I was able to free you all with the Chronicle II Sword, the only way to get ourselves out of this is to get rid of the Genie permanently. We just need to get the Genie out, and then maybe we can start fixing things. Otherwise, this world is doomed to the Void."

"And what of the army?" Ungaga asked. "No matter when or how we get the child's body, it's all lost if we're destroyed by the darkness anyway."

"He's got a point," Toan said. "We'll need volunteers to fend off the army while we deal with Luneth."

Silence fell. Some exchanged shifty glances.

"Don't all speak out at once," Monica muttered. "Fine. Refia, if you want to take Arc, then I—"

"No!" Refia protested a little too quickly, jumping from her seat. "I'm fine with fighting! I'm not scared!"

Monica raised an eyebrow. "Then please, volunteer."

Max raised a hand again. Monica shot him strange look. Max dropped his hand again and stood, "I can't help with Luneth," he said. "It only makes sense that I go with the army of darkness."

"I as well," Ingus said.

"I'll do it," Ruby said. "In fact, I bet I could take on the entire army single-handedly, unlike this guy here."

Goro glared. "Hey! That means I'm going, too!"

"For all the good it will do," Ruby huffed.

"Maximilian is right," Ungaga said, "it only makes sense for all except Toan, Arc, and Monica to go. The more we have in number, the longer we'll be able to stall, and the greater chance of success."

Osmond breathed a defeated sigh.

"In that case," Monica said, "Max, if this is the last time we see each other, then I have something to say."

The room fell silent. Max looked at Monica, swallowing. "Yes?"

"I'm…" Monica looked down. Her face turned beet-red. "I'm sorry for killing you in six years."

"Oh." Max looked a little disappointed. "Um. It's okay, I guess. I mean, it's not actually you that does it, right? Or, did it? Will do it?"

"The Dark Genie will do it, I think. Technically. With my sword. And, well, my-"

Refia grimaced. "Mom," she said, "Dad. Please. You're going to embarrass me."

Max pointed at Refia. "She's our—?"

"Yes," Monica simply. "Try not to think about it too hard."

"I guess," Toan said, "We'll call it here. Everyone make your final preparations. We leave in half an hour."

* * *

Toan stood at the edge of a cliff, looking down at the vast plains below. Wind howled through the land, whipping at the trees and brush, sending debris sweeping through the plain. Above, the sky was hazy and gray. Not overcast, but not clear, either. It was like someone pulled a film over Terra, dulling the light of the sun and hiding the clouds.

Toan toed the edge, cracking off some dirt and rock and sending it tumbling down the cliff.

It was a little disturbing to think how easily he could just… step off. The Chronicle Sword might resist taking him away to his own time, which made this option for bailing out a little easier in some ways. Someone else in his position might literally jump off a cliff. Though, Toan found the idea rather nonsensical. If he failed, then the world would return to the Void anyway, and the end result would be the same.

Either way, everyone would die. May as well give it a fighting chance.

With a sigh, Toan turned.

And came face to face with Luneth.

"You're tempted," Luneth said, back straight, red eyes unblinking. He stood close enough for Toan to smell the blood on him. "Finally, you start to see why this is all necessary."

Toan looked between Luneth and the drop. After a moment of imagining himself connecting with the rocks at the bottom, he shivered and shook his head. "No, actually," he said. "I still don't get it at all."

"You know, I've always wondered how you humans do it," Luneth said, taking a seat on a rock a couple of paces away and kicking up dust. "It's all futile. You realize that, don't you? The monotony of life, the exact, repeating process of the day-to-day that goes on and on for years. I'm surprised humanity made it even this far. You're born, you learn to work, you teach your children to work, and then you die. It's all one long, endless cycle. And to what end?

"It's been centuries. Millennia. And yet you haven't made a bit of difference. You plant your crops, you pray for a bountiful harvest, all so you can merely _survive_. But what does surviving even do for you when life is sohard? You eat so you can make it another day, during which you could just starve again."

Toan tilted his head. "I see you've been thinking a lot about this."

The Genie leaned back and kicked at a rock in the ground. It dislodged, flying a short way toward the cliff face. "I've been possessing humanity since the beginning of creation, boy. There are some patterns that I've noticed in the way you all think."

"Like what?"

"Everyone wants change. They want better things than they have now. What does that win them? Knowledge? Power? No, I've seen the eons and nothing ever _changes_. Technology moves on, slowly, but people? Even thousands of years later, it's still all about hierarchies and the unseen competition to be the best. The competition that puts all your lower-class peasants under greater burdens. The Void is doing you a favor by removing all of that."

Toan shook his head. "There may be some patterns, but we've evolved in other ways. We're starting to understand more about people, for example..."

The Genie scoffed and rapped the heel of his foot against the ground. "Just like a farmer. You're all so closed-minded. Just because that's what you're born into, that's what you _do_. It's the way it _is_. It all comes back to that same monotony, and that's all everyone here ever does: repeat the familiar over and over and _over_."

He had a point, Toan admitted to himself. But then…

"It's better this way," Luneth continued, "if you were to truly understand, you would thank us for ending it all."

But then… he would never see his mother smile again. He would never go on another walk with Pike in the cool of spring or play a game with Gina by the river. Paige and her hobby of interpreting dreams, his mother's attempts to get him to eat more. "If I couldn't enjoy life," Toan said slowly, "then I can see where I might want to agree."

"And yet you don't. Because you're a _fool_ , mortal, thinking you could distract me. Don't think that I haven't noticed that your friends are here."

Toan froze. The Genie turned a cool gaze on him, one eyebrow raised. "One of my own, no less."

 _He_ \- could he sense their mere presence?

"I like to watch certain blips in the timeline," the Genie continued. "Blips that get in the way. There are many bothersome flies like you all down the line who get in my way. The Raybrandt line has proven especially difficult. Even the Empress' daughter travels to the future and enacts certain laws to prevent any chance of me finding a vessel. 'The Radiant Queen' they call her. Heh."

"We needed her," Toan managed despite his throat suddenly going dry. He missed something. What was it?

The Genie stared at him, looking unimpressed. "I took Monica for a reason. And now she's mine," he said as his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. "Did you really think you could take her back with brute force? If it were that easy, do you think you would have had to change all of time for Seda?"

A shriek pealed through the air and Toan spun to see Monica appear out of nowhere. Her limbs moved at strange angles for a minute, like a puppet tangled in its own strings, before she rolled her neck and her limbs stretched back out to their natural positions. She ambled toward him, a tight smile on her face before stopped a few feet away.

"Did you really think?" she said, echoing Luneth's words. "Wait… there's another one. Heh."

With a dark chuckle, she flashed out of sight again, startling Toan. When she reappeared, she gripped a squirming Arc tightly in one arm while a dagger appeared in her other hand.

Arc opened his mouth to say something, but cut off with a squeak when Monica pressed the knife to his throat.

Toan bit back a curse. "We _freed_ you."

Monica shrugged, then spoke with the Genie's inflection, "It takes more than that to completely remove my control."

Toan looked between her and Luneth. Luneth stared at nothing, a glassy look in his eyes.

 _Wait._

"Give it up, _gnat_ ," Monica said, taking Arc's head in her gloved hand. Arc's mouth worked silently, panic showing in his wild eyes and rapid breaths. "I can snap his neck or cut his throat. If you back off now, then I'll let you decide which way he dies."

Toan looked between Monica and Luneth. Luneth had stilled completely, face blank. _He can only completely hold one at a time_ , Toan realized.

"How about you first explain," Toan said, "why you didn't return the world to the Void right at the start? We both know you could have."

"You're stalling," Monica hissed. "You already know why."

"What you told me is too stupid for you," Toan said. "You know better than to waste time, especially for thousands of years."

"I have my reasons."

"You have the _Fairy King_ ," Toan said, nodding to Luneth's unresponsive body. "This whole time, a young version of the Fairy King was traveling with me, and I've seen his power. Why not just destroy the Crystal immediately and bring on the real Cloud of Darkness?"

Monica's face hardened, and she tightened her grip on Arc. Toan fought to keep himself under control, even as Arc mouthed something akin to "help."

 _You can't hurt me_ , Toan realized. He didn't dare push the situation, however so he remained silent. He locked gazes with Arc, whose breathing steadied just a little as he silently muttered to himself. _That's why you're threatening others._

 _But why not me?_

He glanced down at the Chronicle II. It glowed softly, orange veins pulsing just slightly. With a sigh, he stuck it in the ground. The whole plan would be rendered void without Arc. "Fine," he said. Perhaps if he could keep him busy—

"STOP!" Arc screamed. Monica's body stilled, limbs freezing into place.

Time slowed. Toan looked to Arc, who scrambled out from Monica's frozen grip.

"Got her!" Arc shouted. "Simple stop spell! Quick! Toan, cut Luneth! Cut him now!"

 _That_ was what he was mouthing.

Toan's body moved faster than he could think.

 _Stop spell_.

Time slowed as he yanked the Chronicle out of the ground and slashed in one move. Luneth had barely sprung to his feet before the sword slammed into him—

And blasted Toan back with the might of a gale-force wind. However, it was all the distraction they needed; Monica pushed Arc from behind, shouting in some foreign language, and suddenly Luneth's eyes went wide rage before he stumbled and his eyes rolled back into his head. Arc collapsed and Monica barely caught him before he thudded into the ground.

A moment passed, in which Toan and Monica watched the two, ready for Luneth to strike out. But he remained upright, standing unnaturally still.

The air stilled and for a minute, all Toan could hear was the sound of his and Monica's labored breathing.

A minute passed. Luneth remained still on his feet like a statue and Arc breathed evenly in Monica's arms.

Toan and Monica exchanged looked.

"Looks like he's in," Monica said at length, setting Arc down gently. "The Genie can only possess one body at a time, and he should be kept pretty busy and distracted with Luneth here."

She came his way and Toan accepted her hand and she helped him to his feet again. "How will it affect Arc?" Toan asked.

Together, they moved to the edge of the cliff again, and looked below toward the dark shadow on the horizon, signifying countless creatures possessed by the Genie. A few figures appeared before the darkness, Ingus, Max, and Ruby at the head.

"He'll be fine," Monica said. "Nothing permanent can happen while they're like this. We can only wait now until they come out of it, at which point we'll know if it was successful."

"Well," Toan said. "I guess we don't have much else to do at this point."

The darkness below them shifted,

"Max," Monica said, taking a step forward. "We should help them."

Toan shook his head, grabbing her arm. "We don't know that the Genie won't find a way to send someone else this way. We should keep guard."

Monica frowned, brows furrowing. She kept her eyes on the encroaching darkness below them, but also didn't make any further attempt to move.

And so they waited.


	21. Chapter 21

_"I'm not a coward... But I know I have to be stronger."_ \- Arc

Arc found himself in a small circle of light, standing on illuminated ground amidst a sea of blackness. Luneth stood across from him in another circle just like his, shredded cloth floating about him like a mist. It was just the two of them amidst a vast nothingness.

"Where are we?" Arc asked. "What is this place?"

Luneth said nothing. Instead, he turned on his heel and disappeared in the dark. Arc ran to follow him, shouting, "Hey!"

Arc left the safety of the golden light. Everything around him turned pitch-black. Even after leaving the lights, his eyes didn't adjust to the darkness. He couldn't hear his feet hitting the ground below him, either. He simply _moved_ , and hoped that it was in the same general direction that Luneth went. Voices whispered in the background, indistinct words blending together to create a soft, almost water-like sound, like a river running nearby.

Arc ran harder _._ "Luneth! Stop!"

A light appeared on the horizon and suddenly Arc burst into a scene of life and light again. He stopped, coming to stand in Nina and Topapa's living room. A fire crackled on the heart, and snow flurried outside. Luneth, about five years old, held desperately to a small, stuffed chocobo with stitches for eyes and a couple of feathers stuck on top with glue.

"Luneth!" a woman's voice scolded. "You just made him cry! Go apologize!"

"But he took my stuff!"

"It doesn't matter," Nina said. "Give him a hug and say you're sorry."

Arc didn't remember this particular moment, but it felt familiar. They fought over that chocobo several times. He followed little Luneth out the door and into the blasting cold.

Small Arc sniffled, huddled into a small ball at the edge of the doorstep, shivering against the cold. Luneth slid in next to him, unnoticing of the snow swirling at his bare toes. "I'm sorry," Luneth said flatly. "But you took him without asking and you shouldn't do that! I hate it so much when you do that!"

"I didn't mean to!" little Arc said, wiping at his face. "I thought you didn't care! I thought it was okay!"

The snow stopped. Flowers sprung from the ground and the sun came out of nowhere. They weren't at the house anymore—instead they sat the end of the lake on the outskirts of town, Arc shivering in his soaked clothes despite the warm sun. Luneth paced at the edge, muttering under his breath.

Arc remembered this one. They were ten.

"That's why I let them throw me in," younger Arc said, sneezing. "I didn't think you would get so mad."

"Mad?" Luneth repeated. "I'm not mad! Why do people _always_ say that I'm _mad_? I'm angry! There's a difference! You need to fight back against those jerks! I'm angry because now I have to explain to Mom and Dad why you're catching a cold again! Those jerks!"

Luneth ranted about the bullies, calling them hideous names and cursing their ancestry. Luneth had given him a hug and sworn he would stop the bullies if they tried to throw him in the lake again.

The images of Arc and Luneth remained, though they aged a few years. The image of Arc ran away, leaving Luneth alone. Arc watched him go as well, before turning to Luneth, who heaved a sigh, lips pursing in thought. Luneth then walked slowly back to Topapa's, where they spoke in indistinct voices no matter how close Arc got. The words blended together, and he could only make out "crystals" and "quest."

Luneth left and Arc followed him through the forest and over the plains until they reached Kazus, where the image of Arc had gone to prove that ghosts weren't real. Luneth found Arc and startled him with a tap on the shoulder. Younger Arc, after recovering from his shock, then begged Luneth to let him come with him on his journey.

They ran on. The image changed to that of the Cave of Tides. Luneth knelt over Aria's dying body as she gasped her last breaths, face turning cold and pale. A grave appeared, the hillside where they took Aria's body after they came back to find it. Wind whistled in the heath and the sun shone warm on the gravestone. It was all four of them, the Warriors of Light, standing over the grave, hands clasped in solemn sorrow.

Unable to watch further, Arc turned and left. He walked through the Floating Continent, through tunnels, over hill and under bridge. Scenes cropped up in places, memories playing over, several distorted in the same way as before.

Eventually, ruins filled his view, ruins that he didn't know. Wind whistled in what remained of the structure's windows and the sky was a hazy, dusty, orange color, hinting at the ending day. Arc saw the edge of the land that dropped off into a vast, empty sky. Was he still on the Floating Continent?

Luneth was perched atop of the crumbling ruins, one leg swinging off the edge, head propped up casually in his palm. He stared with crimson eyes as Arc approached.

Arc's stomach churned, realization sinking in. He kept reaching for a staff that he didn't have even though the point here wasn't to kill the thing. The creature that watched Arc with curious, amused eyes was impossible to destroy.

This was a suicide mission.

Arc stumbled on a rock and Luneth chuckled. "It's almost interesting just how long humans will fight before they finally accept reality," it said, voice echoing with an alien inflection.

"Please," Arc said, stopping. "Let him go. I want to talk to my brother again. Just once."

It looked a little bored now, mouth straightening into a fine line. "Try again."

"Please."

"I was hoping to keep you, you know," Luneth said with a sigh. "With your magic, a lot of countries could have been wasted and that would have destroyed what trust the nations still had. Could have hit a lot of birds with one stone. But, I suppose I can always find someone else. Flagg will be disappointed." He dropped from his perch and floated down to stand amid the rubble.

Arc could barely take a step back before the creature, moving impossibly fast, zipped forward and grabbed Arc's arm, twisting it behind Arc's back. Luneth sneered, "You fool. If you'd just stayed quiet, I could have spared you."

He yanked it further and Arc yelped as blinding pain shot through his shoulder. "Stop!"

A sickening crack sounded and Arc screamed as his arm broke. Luneth's foot connected with Arc's knee and knocked it out of place. Arc could only manage a small gasp as he lost his footing and thudded to the ground. His face felt wet and his body shook.

"Please," Arc groaned, eyes shutting against the pain and the sight of Luneth's empty, red eyes. He attempted to curl away and hide, but the movement aggravated his broken limbs and sent spikes of pain his body. "Don't. Stop. Luneth, please."

The creature paused, nudging at Arc with a black boot. "Luneth can see everything, mortal. And it looks like he's fine with watching."

"You lie."

"I don't lie."

"Luneth!"

"Stop."

"LUNETH!" Arc cried, trying to push himself up with his good arm. "I saw you! I _know_ you! You're still in there and you don't want this to happen!"

"The King is _gone_ , you pest!" It grabbed Arc's broken arm and Arc choked back a scream as it squeezed.

"Luneth, please, you've helped me all those times and I'm _sorry I wasn't strong enough_ , I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough to stand up for myself. I'm sorry for relying on you! This is me stepping up! I'm making up for it now!"

The creature growled, slamming Arc down again. Jagged stone cut into his face and the world pulsed black.

 _All in the mind_ , he reminded himself. _This isn't real._ He could keep going. "Aren't you in there?" Arc begged. "Can't you see what he's doing? You've stopped so many of those bullies in the past, why can't you stop this one now?"

"It's _too... strong!_ " Luneth shouted, holding back. "Don't fight it, Arc! It'll kill anyone who gets in the way!"

"Except you," Arc whispered, voice hoarse. Blood bubbled at his mouth and his lungs burned. _Not real._ "He can't kill you, Luneth. He can't kill the Fairy King!"

The air calmed. Arc's body screamed for a cure, healing, _rest_. But he kept his flickering gaze on Luneth. "Keep fighting," he said. "Keep him out. Toan… Toan will be here soon."

Something collided with Arc's head and the world went dark.

* * *

Ingus stared down at the darkness crawling toward them and let out a breath he'd been holding. His scars itched. There were thousands of creatures—there was no way they'd be able to completely wipe the darkness out, but he supposed they didn't have to. If they could only stall long enough for Arc and the others to beat the Cloud, then that was all they needed. That or the world was forfeit.

He raised his sword in signal. "Go!"

Ruby, Refia, and Osmond fired, letting bullets and magic missiles loose into the encroaching shadow. It hit some of the monsters, but did little to slow the army.

"Again!"

The volley released another time, taking down a sizeable chunk. They kept moving. Ingus signaled again. The army was getting closer. He had to bring out the melee fighters to meet them in but a few moments. For now, he released another volley. And another. And another.

Ingus steered his chocobo, moving to face his troops as the darkness came closer. "Men!" He shouted, gripping the reins tightly with his good hand. "We may be few, and we may not be legends, will you yet stand with me! United in one purpose!"

"Hey!" Ruby said. "Speak for yourself!"

"We—" Ingus paused, looking at her. "Wait, what?"

"You said we're not legends!" Ruby huffed. "Where I come from, I'm a _big_ legend!" She promptly leapt into the air, hands glowing. Ingus blinked, reigning in his chocobo.

"She thinks she's a _what_?" Goro asked.

* * *

Ruby landed some distance from the army, magic gathering in her palms. She'd seen resets before, and not a few. She'd seen kingdoms rise over the course of centuries and fall in a day, and she's seen armies mass and die in a matter of hours. Heck, she'd seen entire civilizations end in the space of a few minutes. And if there was one thing she'd learned, it was that the course of history could be changed by a simple decision made by either stuffy old men or the wanderlust of a child. Often, it wasn't the big preparations, the huge predictions, or the efforts of a world that really made the difference—it was the small ripples that turned into waves.

She waited, power continuing to mass in her palms. Ingus would hopefully keep the rest of the party behind as she prepared to release.

A yammich stepped into range and Ruby counted to three before she let go and light exploded. Fire enveloped most the front lines. Ruby tossed more fireballs into the crowd, and screams filled her ears as the flames tore through. The ground lit up and heat enveloped the field. Ruby would worry about containing the fire later. For now, she knew only the adrenaline and thepower.

Distorted roaring echoed in the distance—a familiar, nostalgic sound. Ingus and Sophie had helped save her from her owners, but that wasn't until after Ruby had killed, and she killed a lot. When Ingus disappeared… Seda was forced to borrow power that he shouldn't have. Things may have gone too far. Terra, they _had_ gone wrong in a couple of timelines. But in so many of them, Ingus could properly strategize and keep the enemy back despite Ruby's interference.

Faeries cried, and Ruby couldn't tell if that was memory or reality. She screamed, detonating a burst of holy light. The land burned, all the fire and wind creating billowing infernos in the air.

A large hammer smashed into a monster to Ruby's right, and Goro grunted, labored breathing revealing the extent of the poison in his system. "Didn't think you could take all the fun, did you? You're gonna... make us all look like idiots, you are."

"That was kind of the point," Ruby retorted. "Couldn't exactly let anyone show me up, right?"

Goro was weak, but at least he could swing his mallet.

Bullets thudded into another monster. Osmond shouted a war cry, landing amid the crawling throng. "You're both so slow! We're all gonna die of old age before these buggers are gone!"

"Says the one who came in third!" Goro shouted. "I think your age is catching up to you, old man!"

A huge age hit the dirt in front of Ruby, sending rock and dust flying. She hesitated, floating backward as a large ram sniffed and leveled its red-eyed gaze on her. She frowned, thinking of the lives all these creatures had been ripped from. But then, in this existence, they all didn't have much tobe ripped from, now did they? Ruby snarled, blasting it in the face with a burst of electricity.

Something hit her in the back at that moment, the force of it knocking the wind straight from her lungs. Ruby struggled, air caught in her throat, as she fell to the ground. Someone screamed, but it wasn't her. Xiao? Xiao wasn't human here.

Ruby felt something warm wet her back. Blood. She scrambled away, into the chaos of a thousand feet stomping, swarming, and trying to _kill_ because all other senses were lost when one's life was at stake. Stab and burn and cry until all movement besides yours ceased because as long as there was someone else within reach, then you might still lose your life. She'd seen even the best of men reduced to wailing infants in the face of death, when it seemed like it would all end in a second.

Men were weak. They always had been, Ruby thought a little bitterly to herself as she _burned_ , throwing up another wall of flame as soon as she was sure she was out of reach of Osmond and the others. Human hearts were frailer than a set of fine dishes. One misstep, one mistake and it all crashed down. One skirmish, and they would give up their life on the battlefield to make bread for the local bakery in their hometown where they didn't have to worry about the intensity of war.

Beasts and monsters screamed as the fire licked at them. Ruby huffed, kneeling in the dirt, pain blooming from the cut in her back. What was that? A skeleton? She hadn't seen anything, but it felt like it used a sword, which very few creatures tended to do.

* * *

Arc stood at the same ruins again, body aching with the memory of the previous experience, and yet somehow made whole. Luneth sat at the top of the ruins again, the same leg as before swinging against the stone, one hand propping up his head. A slight breeze rustled his hair and he turned his eyes on Arc. They were purple, this time. Normal. Arc came forward again and paused when he noticed a dark outline hanging behind Luneth. A shadow.

A breeze rustled the trees, sending leaves flying in swirling patterns. It was silent, even though he should have heard them scraping the ground. "Luneth?" he asked tentatively.

Luneth nodded from his perch, eyes unblinking and fixed ahead. "Yes."

Luneth was wearing his old clothes again, the purple sweater, buckle vest, black boots. He looked familiar this time. He looked like Arc's brother. "Is that Luneth speaking?" Arc asked. "Or the Cloud of Darkness?"

"It's not Darkness," Luneth said with a sigh. "It's the Void's emissary. Why do people keep getting that mixed up?"

"But he— _it_ —is here?"

"Of course I am," a disembodied voice rumbled from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. "You made a mistake, mortal."

Arc hung back. He wanted to get to Luneth, but flashes from that first encounter played over again in his mind's eye and he cringed, touching the back of his head. "I want to speak with Luneth alone."

"Nice try," the voice said. "We're one and the same now. There is no 'alone' here. This isn't just his mindscape. This is yours, too—or have you forgotten? It's a two-way connection."

"Luneth?"

His brother shifted in his spot, switching to a cross-legged position. Arc was half-surprised he didn't fall from the precarious perch. "I'm here."

Luneth's figure shifted to one that was taller, that wore a brown coat.

Flagg.

"I'm always here."

The landscape changed. Instead of pale ruins, they were back in Arc's tower. His prison. The one he could remember so little about. The one stained purple and black and littered with corpses, bodies that _he_ had to put back together.

 _This is your mindscape, too._

Arc panicked, memories threatening to resurface. He fought to change the scene back to the ruins.

"Why don't you fight him?" Arc asked.

"It's impossible to fight him," Luneth voice echoed softly, sounding somehow much older and wizened. "Imagine, human. Imagine having someone like this always in your brain instead of just stopping by every now and again to kick your cat because he's bored. Imagine losing control to something that wants nothing more than to stir up humanity to anger and rage against itself. Imagine watching the world from the beginning tear itself apart in countless, horrific ways."

"I—"

Flagg stepped closer. Arc tried to back away, but he hit the wall. Flagg leaned in closer, mouth twitching. He smelled the same, like blood and death. "Imagine what he'll do."

"I don't have to!" Arc said. "He's killing everyone! I've seen it! If you don't like it, why don't you _do something_?"

"Because there's no point." Flagg's image changed back to Luneth's. "I've tried to stop him a few thousand times. It's never worked, not even a little. After a… a few dozen millennia, and a few hundred timelines, I just… couldn't keep it up. You don't remember this life, but I do. And it's _terrible_."

"You? _Give up_?" The thought seemed impossible to grasp.

Their surroundings changed back to the ruins. Luneth was back on his perch. He leaned back, even though gravity should have taken over at the point and brought him toppling to the ground. "There's a better timescape out there, somewhere. With all its own timelines. It may only be a dream now, but I'm glad we were friends, then. And, I…" he bit his lip, "I… I'm sorry. I did this. To all of you."

"But..." Arc looked at the shadow that appeared to be enveloping Luneth in a cloud of darkness. "That can't be it."

"It is. I've tried, Arc. I tried so hard. But I'm trapped. And if _I_ can't do anything, then what else can be done? I should be the one with the best shot, and yet here we are."

Arc slumped. "You _idiot_."

"What?"

Arc clenched his fists, frustration replacing his despair. "You think you're the only chance humanity has? How arrogant can you _be_? We want you to fight, Luneth, but then after all that you can do, leave the rest to us. You can trust us, can't you? Do you think you're the only one capable of resisting this thing?"

"Silly child," the shadow whispered. "He can't fight. None of you can. Though I must admit, it is amusingto watch you try."

"No," Arc said, stepping forward. "He can resist. Don't listen to the voices, Luneth. You can still do this! I know you don't want to kill me, or any of those struggling to help you right now! Don't think you're helpless here! Don't leave us! Don't be a coward!"

Something clicked and the shadow flickered in the light. Something screamed in the distance, a shrill sound if Arc ever knew one. It pealed through the scape, rippling in the ground beneath Arc's feet. Luneth stood, cocking his head, then twisting it the other way. Then the other—

Arc was thrown back into oblivion. Only, what he imagined should have been dark was blindingly bright. And instead of hitting a solid object, he just kind of _slid_ , slowing down further and further until the world stopped moving and he could see clouds and the eternal smoke on the horizon. He was lying on the ground, limbs splayed, grass tickling his fingers. Luneth stood near him, eyes blinking rapidly, red fading in and out of his irises.

It wasn't all him, but Luneth was there now. He was fighting. Arc scrambled to his feet as Luneth watched, eyes still blinking. How much time had passed? How much control did the Cloud still have? Could it attack him? Kill him?

Arc stopped, noticing for the first time that Toan and Xiao were also here. Xiao prodded at Arc, paws rough from caked-on dirt. She mewled, rubbing at his face.

Arc snapped his attention back to Luneth, who stopped twitching as another figure appeared, a dark shadow against the backdrop of the smoke rising from a city burning. The black knight. He stopped next to Luneth, swords gleaming blood-red in the sunlight.

Monica moved faster than Arc could see, grabbing her sword and lunging at the black knight with a snarl. Luneth remained still as a statue, but his eyes narrowed, face twisting in contempt. Monica and the black knight became a blur of motion, their swords singing as they clashed.

Toan appeared at Arc's side, helping him stand. Toan glanced toward Monica and Aga, mouth curving into a frown. "Did you get him?"

"I—I don't know. It was confusing. He's not trying to kill us, and in fact hasn't said anything, but I have no idea."

Luneth stared at them, eyes fading back and forth, blood-red, deep violet. Back again. Toan reached for his sword, then froze when he only found Monica's. "Where—?

They both looked to where Monica was locked in battle with the black knight. In the life before, Arc remembered that not even she was a match for him. But here, it looked to be a close call.

"We're losing him, I think," Arc said, looking at Luneth. Red was taking over again. "We need to cut him."

Toan wordlessly grabbed the other sword and charged, joining the fray. Arc watched, wobbling on his feet. He felt so weak. He looked at Luneth.

"You know," Arc said. "When you think about it, it's a little funny. We came all this way and we got so close. And yet—"

Luneth grabbed Arc by the throat. Arc choked, blinking back his shock. "Stop. Talking," Luneth said.

Arc managed a weak smile despite the restriction on his air passages. "So we _are_ losing you. But… you're also fighting in there. That gives me... hope."

" _Don't._ "

"You sound angry… but you haven't killed me yet. I'm weak. In this reality, I'm _actually_ weak. With so little effort, you could just end it now. But you won't."

"No!" Luneth spat. "I am _here!_ This body's _mine!_ "

"Say it all you want, Luneth. But I'm here for you. I've always been here, and that will never change. If the Cloud kept you, if you made me go through this all a thousand times, then I would still be there. You're my brother, after all."

" _Shut up!_ "

"Well, I guess maybe not a thousand times. After all, what are siblings for if you can't be honest with them? I think a thousand times would be a little much. My heart might give out. Will to live—"

Luneth screamed, dropping Arc. He grabbed his face, nails digging into his skin. Blood trickled out, purple-black in color, and he stumbled backward. "Get _back_ , you pest!"

Arc remained where he was. Maybe it would be better to crawl away, but he was so _tired_. He just wanted to sleep for forever and never wake up. He wanted to never move again. His limbs felt like noodles and his torso felt like a chunk of iron on his legs. It would be better to at least sit up and watch what was happening. If this failed, their chance at a normal world would be gone.

With a groan, he lifted himself to his knees. Luneth still stood with his hands to his face and blood dripping from his fingers.

Metal stopped clashing. Arc darted his gaze, heart sinking, to where Monica and Toan lay crumbled in the ground. His blood ran cold as Aga straightened, grasping the Chronicle II in his hands. He turned his attention to Luneth and Arc as he silently stalked over.

No.

 _No_.

They'd lost. Arc looked at Luneth, who was out of commission. The Cloud of Darkness was struggling with Luneth, so it must have diverted all of its power to Aga.

The black knight paused, looking between the two of them. Arc tried to get away, but he was forced to crawl as he couldn't summon the energy in his legs tostand. Fear gripped his heart and his breath heaved as he inched away from the knight who remained ever so still and silent.

And then a voice, one that Arc knew too well, cut through that silence.

"I was hoping not to have to use this vessel," Flagg said, appearing in his vision, eyes red and voice echoing. "He earned himself a break last time."

Arc bit back a whimper as Aga turned to face Flagg. _Not again_ , he silently pleaded to any god that might listen. "No," he managed, throat tight. "Please—"

Time froze as the black knight rammed the sword through Flagg's chest, blood spraying. Flagg swore, stumbling from the hit, but he remained standing. The black knight yanked out his blades again.

And without another word, the Chronicle Sword then came crashing down on Luneth's figure.

* * *

Ingus flicked oily blood from his spear, quickly leveling it again as he faced down another goblin, sweat forming on his skin from the heat of the circle of fire raging not five paces to his right. Ruby was inside, but Ingus didn't know how she was doing. As long as the fire stood, though, she at least couldn't have been dead, unless genies could somehow cast from beyond the grave.

He slashed as one wolverine regained its courage and leapt in, claws and teeth bared. Ingus ripped into its gut and then instinctively yanked his spear out again and shoved it backwards as another presence closed in from behind. The butt of the shaft slammed into bones and rattled, causing Ingus to leap forward, yanking it away again.

He looked at his new foe; a bone lord stepped forward, slamming his blade into the earth and unleashing a shockwave that knocked Ingus to the side.

Ingus rolled out of the way of another blast, tasting blood on his lips from a cut on his forehead. Dust clogged his throat, making him choke. The stench of sulfur filled his nose.

Ingus stood, a touch shaky. Empty eye sockets stared back at him, dark and unseeing. Ingus swallowed, readying his spear as the thing stepped forward, its "arm" swinging almost casually in the air, unattached to its main body. Ingus stood his ground, tensed, waiting for it to come just within range so he could _strike_ —

A griffon slammed into Ingus' side. Ingus cursed himself—there were still plenty of other monsters to worry about. How had he let himself get so focused on a single target like that? Ingus whirled, stabbing into the back of the griffon. It screamed, claws raking at Ingus' armor to no avail.

The griffon died with another hit to the head, choking on its own blood. Ingus yanked his spear back out, sending black blood spraying in an arc.

The bone lord closed in, sword out. Ingus kicked at the griffon, nudging it a few inches out of the way just in time to parry the bone lord. Ingus grunted, lobbing the thing's head off after a small struggle.

Monster after monster swarmed him. Ingus took out another flyer, shadow, gremlin, roper, rat. He just kept swinging until blood stained his clothes and armor almost black and his sword dripped with the stuff.

Ingus stopped as something cut into his arm and pain blossomed, blurring his vision. _Block it out_. Ingus killed the bat, and another basilisk screamed as it bled out.

He was running low on energy. Magic glowed in his hands as a weak cure trickled through his system. It wasn't enough.

Where had the wall of fire gone? Ingus glanced around. He couldn't see Ruby. Ungaga lied in a crumpled heap, almost certainly dead, as was Goro. Osmond kept going, his cries filling the air. That granted Ingus just a little more drive to keep moving. They needed to buy Toan more time. He couldn't afford to rest now, especially if Ruby had already been taken out.

A vengeful scream pealed through the air, and Ingus quickly amended that assumption as Ruby flew in and tore the ground with another explosion. She landed near Ungaga's corpse, lobbing spell after spell after—

Something hit Ingus' head and he cursed, stumbling to the side. Another shot took him in the knee and he crashed to the ground. They had to keep going, buy more time—

Red-orange lightning flashed through the Cloud's endless horde, branching out into a spider web of light that extended as far as Ingus could see. It stabbed into the ground and arced high into the air, growing bigger and bigger until the sky itself appeared to crack.

He was sure he should be hearing thunder, but instead there was only an unnerving silence that swallowed even the roar of battle.

 _Toan. Arc. Luneth. Did they… win?_

The world faded to white.


	22. Chapter 22

_"Being immortal is what makes life precious in the first place. It is not how long you live, but what of the time you make in this world."—_ Doga

Aga stumbled.

The stench of blood, sulfur, and smoke faded from his nose, replaced with the musty scent of darkness and fae. Hazy clouds were replaced with cool, blue light as the pain in his body from all the cuts and injuries he sustained dissipated.

… _What injuries?_

Memories faded from his mind, like dreams did upon waking. Aga could still see vague images, of plunging the Chronicle into the Genie's host. A boy with white hair. Aga remembered fire and ash and smoke and hurting Toan and doing a lot of things he shouldn't have.

The Chronicle. Aga looked down, but his hands still gripped his old, crimson blades. They were wet with blood, too much. Or perhaps not enough.

"Don't move!" a girl's voice cried. Aga froze. Monica. The girl from the future. She faced him, sword raised.

And not just her. Arc and Toan, too, with other children joining in. They all watched him with expressions ranging from caution to fear to deep pain.

All of the Crystal's heroes, together. Against him.

He had hurt them all. Monica, Arc, Toan…

Because he was too weak to resist the Dark Genie. Because he gave place in his heart for such a monster, he'd cause far more damage than he could ever hope to repair. Evidenced now by the way even his own sons glared his way. Oh, well. That was fate. That was fair. By the Sun, Aga deserved it. He dropped his swords.

And waited for one of them to kill him.

Perhaps now he would finally find rest. The Genie was gone. He could feel it in the air and see it in the way the Chronicle II lay shattered on the ground. Just like there was one sword forged for the sole purpose of killing the snake in Matataki, there was one sword forged specifically to take into itself all the power the Genie possessed. It overrode that dark timeline and stopped it from existing, and in so doing prevented any more such timelines from being the one true timeline. But such power was too much and ended up destroying the sword itself.

Just like it was time for Aga to accept the end and be removed from this world. It was a small mercy, certainly far more than he deserved.

Everyone watched Aga, from what he could see in the shadow of his helmet. The greatest in the world, all gathered together and ready to tear him to pieces the moment he made the wrong move.

Why did they wait? Aga frowned. He was open. Vulnerable. This was their chance.

"He will return," Aga said. "Don't let him."

Something glinted in Toan's eyes and he pulled out his dagger.

And for the first time in so many years, Aga felt hope at the sight of that black steel. He bowed his head, ready. How poetic, that his life be ended by his wife's own blade.

"Dad," Toan said. "Is it gone?"

Aga snapped his eyes open again and inwardly cursed; Toan toyed with fate. "I am a bringer of death," Aga said. "I left you and your mother to suffer for ten years for the sake of my own pride. I _killed_ your brother."

 _Remember, my son. Choose what's reasonable. Choose to follow your heart like you did last time. Choose what's_ right _._

"No," Toan said, letting his dagger fall to his side with a soft thud. "You left Mom and I, yes, and I can't forgive that just yet. But you didn't kill Arc."

"Toan," Monica said slowly, warning in her voice. "He's _dangerous_."

 _Listen to her_!

"Wait," one of the other children said. A boy with freckles and chestnut hair. He looked at Aga with a straight back, confidence in his face, and stepped closer. Aga breathed harder as Arc approached, his son looking for all the world like a toddling child again despite the ageless staff in his hands and the determination in his eyes.

Aga took a step back as Arc stopped not two feet in front of him. "Move," Aga said in his most commanding voice.

Arc didn't budge. "I've faced worse things than you," he said, even as he rubbed a hand at his chest, where Aga had cut him. "I've come too far to let you go," Arc said, eyes glistening. " _Too_. _Far_."

The young mage was so Crystal-shatteringly _tiny._ And such a fool, so _naive._ Aga silently cursed his son's stupidity. Did he not learn his lesson in the _forest_? Why plant himself directly in front of Aga, who could kill him in the blink of an eye?

Aga's eyebrow twitched. What was he supposed to do with this? Perhaps he should push him away, reprimand him for putting himself in such blatant danger. Perhaps he should his pummel him with the back of one of his swords and teach him not to trust like this.

"He's not doing anything," someone whispered, surprised. Aga scowled. At this rate, they would _all_ let their guards down. The Genie was gone, true, but that didn't mean it wouldn't come back. It _always_ came back.

"Dad," Toan said, voice growing hoarse. "It really _is_ you, isn't it?"

 _Oh, no_. It was as he feared. Toan stepped forward, leaving his dagger. Arc turned from Aga to look at Toan, fingers gripping his staff tighter. To Aga's knowledge the two had yet to meet before this point.

Toan stared at Aga, mouth slightly agape. Arc stepped back, allowing Toan to come further forward. They both regarded Aga then, and he saw in that moment how the separation of two continents did so little to change them. They looked so alike, with the same hue of brown in their hair and angular faces. Were they not wearing such vastly different attire, Aga doubted he would be able to differentiate between them. Well, the attire and the skin tone. Toan's skin had tanned, like all the Noruni's did, while Arc had somehow retained a pasty white tone.

And Aga realized something in that moment: he wanted to return with them to Norune. By the Crystals, he wanted another chance.

… Was that even possible?

"I think…" Arc said slowly, "that he's safe."

Toan nodded. "If he wanted to kill us, we'd both be dead by now."

Monica stepped closer, "But can we be _certain_?"

Aga grimaced. He may as well remove his armor at this point, for all the good it would do. He reached up, causing several to tense up and bring their weapons back out. Aga paused, then grabbed his helmet. He lifted it off, sweat-slicked hair sticking to his face.

Somehow, that seemed to satisfy Monica, and she and the other children hesitantly broke off, looking for other things to distract them. Conversation started up again, slow and quiet at first. They considered Aga not to be a threat, apparently.

Simba's beard.

"I'm sorry," Toan said first. His expression was unreadable. "I almost killed you again."

Again. Aga remembered the previous time, when everything ended with a swift strike of the Chronicle into Aga's shoulder. The fact that Toan had developed to the point where he could beat his father left Aga strangely uneasy. The one thing that Aga wanted most out of life was simply for it to end. "I have a favor to ask of you," Aga said.

Toan snapped his head up, locking eyes with Aga, surprise written in his features. "I doubt that I will be able to keep him out for long," Aga said, "Please… be ready. Reenact our previous encounter. Do what needs to be done."

Toan remained silent for a moment, and Arc cast his brother a worried glance. Shatter all the Crystals, but Arc looked exactly like Renee for a moment, freckles and all.

"Seda," Toan said, "He kept it out when we killed the Genie then. It'll be the same for you."

Aga shook his head. "We don't know that."

"Then I guess we'll find out," Toan said stubbornly. "I think between Arc and I, we can keep you under control if needed."

"Toan," Aga said, "Don't put yourself at risk."

Toan opened his mouth, looking ready to protest, but then Refia swore loudly, "Ancients!" Her hands lit up with blue energy. "Luneth! You idiot! Wake up!"

* * *

Simba coughed, dust infiltrating his lungs. Voices clamored around him. Familiar voices. He couldn't make sense of them—it was humanspeak. He'd spoken Demon for so long. _So long_. The Genie had him for… _how_ long? Years?

No. Thousands. How many thousands, he didn't know.

And Simba was the Fairy King. He'd never been raised human, so he never got to learn human so much.

He wasn't human. He was fae.

But he _was_ human. Once. Right?

Now?

Simba pushed against the ground. He felt weak and feeble, like his limbs could be torn apart with just a slight pull. Not like it should if he were really fae. He stretched out his fingers in the dirt, scraping dusty rock. His skin prickled, and he could make out tiny scrapes showing red and pink along his skin.

Yes. Human. This was the life he'd started to think he imagined. The life he'd thought was impossible. A dream, or maybe an illusion to keep himself sane amidst the chaos and terror of the Genie's mind.

But that wasn't here. It wasn't now.

Even his clothes were different. They were tough and heavy. As Fairy King, he favored soft, silken robes that fluttered on the wind.

But not now. Not anymore.

This... This was "his."

"Luneth," came a familiar voice. The one that spoke to him, that invaded his mind and saw him for what he was. The voice that reminded Simba he had something to fight for. He knew that voice. It reminded him of… "home."

It took a moment for him to translate the words. He hadn't spoken this tongue in millennia. And yet it had also only been seconds. "Luneth. Please. Say something."

He kept his eyes on the dirt. The air around him was dark, and heavy with dust. It smelled dank, but not unpleasantly so. It was musty, but also strangely… warm. Simba scraped his fingers through the dirt again, noticing a blue tint in the air that reflected off the cave's floor.

Crystal light. Specifically, the Water Crystal's light. Only it could give off such a deep, pure glow of blue.

Simba was surrounded by people—he could feel it. He didn't want to look at them. Looking would mean a lot of things to remember and Simba didn't know if he could do that. Looking would mean owning up to the fact that he _hurt_ —

Someone's calloused hands touched his cheek, then lifted his chin, forcing him to look into the face of a human girl with tanned skin and reddish eyes. "Are you in there?" she asked. "Are you okay?"

"S'kka—" Simba started. Someone murmured something under their breath. No. That was the wrong language. "... Yes," he managed. The word felt strange on his tongue, but somehow he knew it to be the right answer.

"We've tried curing you," she said, dropping her hand again. "But the magic won't work with your system."

"Why?" asked another, one that reminded Simba of loud voices and the rush of battle. "What happened?"

"I don't know," said the girl.

They had names. Names that meant something. Not in the way that fae names did, but in the way that their names meant who they were. And those names meant a lot to _he_ had a name that meant something to _them_.

"Who?" Simba said, voice scratching. "Who are you?"

"Crystals," someone swore. Someone that Simba had never heard curse before. It should have been funny, he thought, though he especially struggled placing how that voice connected with him.

"I'm Refia," the girl said. "Don't you remember? We've been fighting together for years."

"I'm okay with you forgetting me," said the voice that sounded like adrenaline and fury.

"Same," said another voice from somewhere in the cave. Simba thought of ocean waves when he heard that one. Simba groaned, struggling to lift himself onto his hands.

"I'm Max," said a new voice, also reminiscent of the ocean. "We've been traveling together for the past month."

One said, "I'm your brother. Arc."

It all came back.

Screams pealed as memories surged, of another figure, an older version of him that he spoke with as a human. He had friends, bonds with humans. He had a family. He lived in Ur for such a long time and was about to die from boredom when adventure finally knocked on his door and called him to the great open space of Blue Terra.

"Luneth," he managed, voice hoarse. "I'm _Luneth_."

He felt like he couldn't stand even if he wanted to. Shifting back to his human state, it felt like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"What else would you be?" Refia asked.

"The Fairy King," Arc said quietly. Right. He would have seen into Luneth's mind, would have seen it all. The captivity, the _violence_ — "Aga said that he might be part fae, but we never thought—I didn't think—"

"Wait, who's the Fairy King?" Max asked.

"King of the fae," Monica said, as if that explained things further. "I think I've met him once."

Ingus rapped his spear sharply against the ground, "May we step back a moment, please? Luneth, you're _fae?_ "

"Yes." There were a lot of facts swimming in his head, a lot of things from previous lives that mixed together, but that much he could keep straight. "I'm fae. And quite powerful, I guess."

"Definitely," Monica said. "You're a menace. My father would tell me horror stories about you to keep me in line."

"Luneth?" Ingus repeated in disbelief. "Your people will manage to turn _Luneth_ into a bedtime horror story?"

"I can see it," Arc said softly, causing a few laughs to ripple through the cave.

"This is Simba?" an older, deeper voice asked, Luneth looked up. Aga blended well into the shadows, but that gold on his armor still gave him away. The same voice that Luneth thought never swore. He remembered now.

"Yes," Luneth said. "Why?"

"Oh, yeah," Arc said. "We finally found them, Luneth. This is Toan and Aga. My… family. They're a little different than I imagined, but I think you'll like them."

Luneth blinked. He already knew them. Was that from _this_ timeline or the previous one?

Luneth groaned. Toan and Aga were supposed to be important, he knew, but now all Luneth could think of was that he felt like his stomach was about to implode. "No one," he said, "would happen to have any apples on them, would they?"

"You're the _Fairy King_ ," Toan said. "Can't you just, I don't know, summon them yourself?"

Luneth paused. "No, I don't think that's how it works." He didn't know how it _did_ work, but those memories were starting to slowly filter back in. "Ugh, I don't want to think about that right now."

* * *

"You're leaving already?" Toan asked.

"Yeah," Monica said, hefting her Chronicle Sword, "I'm pretty sure this can take us back to our time. Although…" she gave a pointed look at the glittering orange dust that now carpeted the cave's floor, "If there's any time-travelling you need to do, we can take care of that first."

"Uh, no. I think I'm good."

"Good," Monica held out her hand, which Toan took, "It was nice to meet you. Though I wish it could have been under better circumstances."

"Story of my life."

"Hey, hold on," Max said, "That sword can get us back home? Can it take us back here later?"

Monica grimaced, "I think… maybe we've done enough meddling with time, Max. Once we go back to Palm Brinks, we should probably stay there."

"… Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Well," Toan said, "You'll be welcome here if you change your mind."

Monica smiled, "Thank you."

She released Toan's hand, and took Max's, holding the Chronicle Sword parallel to the ground. Closed her eyes, and focused on the pulsing energies within the blade. Thought of Max's time. Palm Brinks, Zelmite Mine, and the feeling of passing from Sindain to Jurak Mall, Starlight Temple to Balance Valley, Veniccio to Luna Lab—

"Wait!" a voice shouted, one that Monica _knew_. "Wait just one second!"

She froze, dropping Max's hand as the power vanished from the Chronicle Sword. It vibrated just slightly in her hand, almost as if annoyed. Max and the others turned toward the cave entrance, where a tiny, big-eared figure waddled into view.

"Aw, man! Did I miss it _already_?"

* * *

 **A/N:** _Kinda a shorter chapter, but hey. Getting a bit of a breather never hurt anyone, especially after such a long ride. We're not done just yet, but the last chapter is the epilogue and I wanna make sure that it's done right, so it may take an extra week or two to post. Not that anyone's reading this anyway, but bear with me, eh? This is the first project that I've ever officially finished, revisions and everything. Bit of a milestone for me, finishing a project 100k words+ even if it wasn't perfect. There are a lot of storytelling errors and stuff that I realize I messed up on, but I'll just pat myself on the back anyway in case anyone needs me._

 _See you next chapter! (In which I'll likely dump all my feelings in the notes, so don't read them.)_


	23. Chapter 23

" _Books...! Knowledge!"—_ Arc

Ruby took a deep breath of the autumn air and lounged against the banquet table.

It was just about harvest time for Norune, so Toan decided that somehow, the timing was perfect to have the whole party of adventurers in his village before everyone parted ways. Which, for most of them, didn't mean much. Ruby and Ungaga would remain within a day's journey or so of his village, and the western kids would be just a boat ride away. Max and Monica, though. after they whisked away back to their time, there would be no going back. _That_ goodbye would be final.

"It's a meeting of the utmost import," Osmond was saying to Ungaga. "I for one think it's only proper that you brought your wife."

Ungaga twitched an eyebrow. Beside him, Mikara laughed. "You don't have to convince him," she said. "He all but begged for an excuse to come, so I gave him one."

"I don't know," Osmond said. "Perhaps we should continue labeling it as a diplomatic mission just in case, to improve relations between the desert and outlying villages."

"What purpose would _that_ serve?"

The cave was a few days ago now. The village needed time to throw a proper celebration, and Ungaga had to go pick up his new wife. Luneth, with his new Fairy King powers, practiced his zipping in and out of reality, and managed to get to some other stragglers. Which were mostly other friends of the orphans. Ruby knew the Fairy King had more powers than teleportation, but it appeared that it would take some time before Luneth would come to use all of them.

Ruby smiled to herself, removed as she was from the group. She took a sip from her cup of cherry wine, something Norune was famous for. It was good, admittedly, but not as good as some of the stuff she had in Queens.

That was another goodbye, one that Ruby hoped would also be final. Maybe she wouldn't see quite so many resets there anymore.

She looked at Ingus, who walked with his girlfriend through the crowd. A pretty girl, Ruby thought, but she also looked like the type of princess that could barely fold her own napkins and the Ingus that Ruby knew would never fall for a ditz.

Yet more proof that the world she knew no longer existed. Ripples caused hundreds of years ago turned into waves now, leading to decimated kingdoms where empires once stood and republics where tyrants should have held the throne. And, in some cases, leading smart young men to fall for the total opposite of what they may have chosen in another time and life.

Toan slipped into the spot beside her. Xiao, for once, appeared to be preoccupied elsewhere.

"Don't you have a date?" Ruby asked. "It seems to be the popular thing nowadays."

Toan didn't respond for a bit, instead pouring himself some juice. He watched the juice pour from the jug with a slight grimace on his face.

Ruby sighed and set down her glass. "What's got you this time?" she asked.

Toan hesitated for a moment before answering, "Do you think he's gone this time?"

Time's Bells, the kid didn't know how to relax and forget. "Of course he's not," Ruby said. "But he's quite a bit weaker now, I think. From the looks of it, the Void will never truly be gone. It's the _Void_ , after all. Your brother's looking into it as we speak. Must run in the blood."

Toan frowned. "Do you know anything about what happened? In the cave?"

"We beat up Aga?"

"No, I mean after that. Before Luneth woke up. Something _happened_."

Ruby shrugged, trying to appear casual, though some awful images and feelings came to mind. She couldn't remember very clearly, but she knew deep inside her that it was very bloody, very gory, and very much not something she wanted to ever remember again"... It was really unclear," she said.

Toan frowned. Likely he wondered at night where the voices came from, the ones that whispered of death and horror. Likely he wondered where the Chronicle sword disappeared to, or if this life was entirely real. Likely he experienced something not unlike what she went through every day of her eternal existence.

And just that glimpse appeared to be enough to put him in a bit of a sour mood. Unless Toan didn't normally celebrate with the rest of his village? She certainly couldn't put that past him.

Ruby wished she could tell him it got better, that the gross feeling went away after a while. But all time-travelers had to pay the same price. Except her, of course, because Ruby had to live with the same thing multiplied infinitely.

Because she was still an accursed genie.

How she hated that sometimes.

"How's the family?" she asked, desperate to change the topic.

"Father is…" Toan began. He paused, looking pointedly to where Renee was moving about the crowd of the festival with Aga in tow. Aga's face was bone-white and shallow, and he didn't participate much in the conversation Renee started. Ruby couldn't tell if the coloring was from fear or malnourishment.

She suspected it was both.

"I see," she said. "I guess it's to be expected. It will probably be a few years before he's completely back to normal."

"I don't think anyone could truly be normal after something like that."

Ruby shrugged. "I would put more faith in your family. After all, you got it from somewhere, right?"

Toan looked ready to argue, but he held his tongue. Ruby tilted her glass toward him. "Right?"

"I suppose," Toan said reluctantly.

"Right."

He fell quiet and neither said anything else until Osmond darted past, Laura on his heels.

"Calm yourself, woman!" Osmond shouted behind him. "It was just a joke!"

"You want a _joke_? Wait till the village see you when I'm done!"

Ruby whistled softly to herself. "I keep forgetting he's never been here in this life."

Toan coughed and stood. "I'd better go save him from becoming Aunt Laura's stew."

"You got it from somewhere," Ruby repeated quietly, turning to see Aga converse awkwardly with Hag. _Must run in the blood._

* * *

"My… parents," Refia said, looking skeptical. Max and Monica exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"Yes," Monica said. "Apparently."

"Nice to meet you," Max said. "Or maybe, nice to see you again? You've seen us, I mean, so technically it's your second time. For us it's the first, though, so it should still be a 'nice to meet you.'"

Refia looked at them, brows furrowed. Max wondered what she was thinking right now. It _was_ disorienting. His _daughter_ was as old as him _._

… His _daughter_.

"I guess this means we're getting married," Max said in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. Monica's cleared her throat and scooted a few inches away.

Refia kept staring. "You're…"

"Mom and Dad, yes," Monica said. "Apparently."

Max and Refia each took a drink in sync. Monica stood. "I'm going to get some wine."

"But—" Max's protest died on his tongue as Monica stalked off in no discernible direction. It looked almost like she was heading for the village exit. "Wine isn't good for people our age," he said quietly, turning back to the table and spearing a flank of pork.

Refia kept staring, eyes narrowed. "How does it work, again?"

Max shrugged. "I'm not sure, myself."

"I mean, I know I was kidnapped from another time, but you're hundreds of years in the future! And Monica's even further ahead than that!"

"Not anymore," Max said. "She actually broke the law in her time so she could return to mine. And then the genie kidnaps you to take you to this time."

"Uh huh." Refia stuffed a vegetable that Max couldn't recognize into her mouth. She continued, "But what did I do - or will I do - to attract his attention? He only took those that stood in the way of him at some point in time, I heard. What if I never find out why I was good enough to warrant that?"

"I don't think it's important," Max said. "I think it's pretty awesome by itself that you got kidnapped in the first place."

Refia shrugged. "Maybe."

It made sense that she was somehow their daughter, given the orange-blonde hue of her hair and her red eyes that shone in the firelight just like Monica's, only without the pinkish tint. Seeing that, Max didn't have too much trouble accepting her as family.

Accepting her as his _daughter_ , however, just felt weird _._

"I mean, anyone can get themselves kidnapped," Refia said.

"Uh huh."

"But you two can control time. Now _that's_ impressive."

"Nah," Max said. "We had some gates we used. It's different. We didn't even mean to come to this time. That was also the Genie's fault."

"So you also got kidnapped."

"But not the same way you were."

Refia shrugged. "One question I have is: what will happen to future me given I'm here?"

"I'm not sure." Max started fiddling with a loose splinter in the table. "I've thought about it a bit. We technically beat the Genie, but we didn't affect the origin points of your disappearance."

Refia hummed. "I guess that means I don't get to have you two for parents."

"Maybe not," Max said. "But it looks like your current parents are doing a fine job."

"Yeah. Sure." Refia chuckled. "I'm sure he'd love to hear that."

"He?"

Refia nodded. "I only have a father."

Max leaned forward, curiosity getting the better of him. "What's he like?"

If they were going to leave forever, Max figured he may as well find out everything he could. Refia obliged and Max listened intently as she told him about the blacksmith Takka.

"He's kind of a stern man, but he's never steered me wrong. Except for that one time, of course…"

* * *

"Father was startled and confused," Sara said. "Time stopped, but only for so long. It was… strange. It hurt, a little. I think. Being stuck, bleeding out, for however long it was."

Ingus nodded. They sat facing the fire and dancers, with Sara resting her head on his shoulder. It made Ingus uncomfortable, showing such blatant indecency before so many people, but there was no helping it as Sara insisted.

"I'm sorry," Ingus said. "I'm afraid it's my fault."

Sara jolted upright, startling Ingus. "No, you fool! You know as well as I do that there was no 'fault' involved." As she spoke, however, she hissed in pain and fell back against him. "It was the best the Crystals could do. And still I'm alive, aren't I?"

"... It shouldn't have gotten so close."

"Maybe not. But what's done is done, and there's no changing it now. I'll admit that these scars won't exactly be the most flattering on a woman of my station, but at the same time I appreciate the chance to fight for my country and kingdom every now and again instead of being kept inside all day, sewing our family's emblems over and over."

"I have to disagree, my lady."

"About what, my good sir?"

She looked up at him, her eyes glittering in the firelight. _Crystals_ , those eyes. He steeled himself. Propriety. He was better than this. He couldn't let himself be distracted.

… Distracted from what?

"You were saying?" Sara said.

Ingus cleared his throat. By the Light, he didn't like what being around Sara did to him. "I, ahem, disagree that it would be unflattering. I am, after all, a captain and soldier. Scars are what make us who we are."

"Ah, yes. So unrefined. I forgot you're a barbarian. You should thank Desch, by the way. He did his best to help, and if it weren't for him I think I would be dead."

"I'll remember to do so next time I see him."

" _If_ you see him again. Desch is as fickle a man as ever I saw. How did you pick up such strange company?"

"There was an incident with a dragon-"

"No," Sara said with a sigh. "That's not what I meant."

Oh. Ingus thought about Desch. "Our meeting was of the Crystals' making," he said. "And we chose to help him while his memories were returning."

"It was just a joke, Ingus."

"A joke."

"Yes."

Ingus blinked. "So you do not actually wish to hear of how our partnership came to be?"

"Not really. Though I suppose it may still be an interesting story to hear later."

Music thrummed in Ingus' ears and he leaned back to rest against a tree. Sara leaned with him, hair falling behind her shoulder. They remained like that for a while, watching the festivities in comfortable silence. Ingus liked that he could always find quiet with Sara, unlike most people he knew. She didn't feel the need to generate noise simply for the sake of it.

They were simply together.

And that was all Ingus wanted.

* * *

Arc stood alone, off to the side.

Toan frowned, glancing around. Mom and Dad disappeared at some point, but Toan couldn't tell where.

"Hey," Toan said, approaching Arc.

His brother – could he call him that? – looked up. His face was unreadable, though his eyes were rimmed with red. "Hi," Arc said.

"Ruby says you're leaving."

Arc nodded. "No offense. I've been searching for this for so long, and now that it's finally within my reach, I'm realizing that it's not… what I need to do."

"What do you need to do, then?"

Arc stared at the pyre, at Alnet and the others dancing to a lively tune. "I'm not sure. I was kind of hoping some more traveling might help find me the answers I'm looking for."

Toan stood close to Arc, watching the scene before them. He felt the heat of the flames even from this distance, and he reveled in the sense it gave it him of being _home_.

"It might," Toan said. "But I wouldn't get my hopes up. Look at what happened to Dad, after all."

Arc nodded. "I realize."

"You'll tell us if you need help, right?"

"Of course," Arc said quickly. "It would be kind of rude of me not to ask every now and again, now that we've finally found each other. Bit of a waste, I guess."

 _Together_ , Toan thought. For the first time in fourteen years, and for the first time that Toan could remember, his family was together.

"Doesn't everyone dance at an event like this?" Arc asked. "Where I come from, it's custom for the whole village to participate."

"Not usually," Toan said. "There's a select few that'll rehearse and do a lot of coordinated shows, but beyond that we just appreciate the music."

"Huh." Arc cast a glance toward Claude, who danced lethargically to the beat. "Except him, apparently."

Toan allowed a smile. "Yes. Claude tends to be more enthusiastic than the rest of us."

Arc looked at Toan, also smiling a little. The red faded from his face, and Toan thought for a moment that he looked happy. "Is it always the same people?"

"Same?" Toan looked toward the pyre again. "Dancers? Usually. Sometimes we have to substitute, but at least in my case I try to avoid it where necessary."

Arc hummed, turning to look around them. "What do you do during the winter when you don't have any crops?"

"We store up food," Toan said. "And seeds."

"No," Arc said. "I mean, do you celebrate in the winter too? Or do you only do it once a year? Or once a season? My village does it twice a year, once at the beginning of spring, and then again at the beginning of fall."

"We don't really follow a particular pattern," Toan said. "People here tend to celebrate any time they feel like it."

Arc frowned. "Oh. How can you throw feasts that often?"

"Dran's magic."

Arc pulled a small book out of the inside of his coat. "Really? Tell me about this. Does he enchant the soil? The crops? How can he account for the economy when a village has unlimited supplies?"

Toan shook his head. "They're not unlimited. And I don't know the details - you probably want to speak with Dran directly if you want more answers. I can introduce you to him tomorrow."

Clicking his quill against the book, Arc sighed. "We leave first thing tomorrow. Maybe I can visit again soon and talk to him then?"

"Of course."

"In the meantime, can you talk to me about your moon cycle?"

* * *

Max cast Norune one last, longing look. "Are you sure we can't stay one more day?" he asked. He and Monica had waited until everyone had gone to sleep before sneaking away to a secluded spot so they could make a discreet exit.

Monica nodded. "The longer we wait the harder it will be to leave. Better to do it quick. You know, like ripping off a bandage"

Max nodded sullenly. "Okay."

The Chronicle sword glistened in the light of the night sky. All fires in the village had long died to smoldering charcoal, leaving just the moon and stars to guide them.

"Here goes," Monica said, lifting the sword up again. "Take my arm?"

Max nodded, wrapping his fingers around the crook of her elbow. He pictured their home in his mind as the sword vibrated and shone with a green light. He thought of the glowing hearth in his mansion and of his father's warm smile. He imagined the strength of Veniccio's ocean wind battering his clothes and tossing his hair.

Images of their journey filled his mind.

And Blue Terra vanished.

* * *

Arc stood on a ledge overlooking the Queens harbor. Renee and Toan were below the ledge Arc had found in hopes of seclusion, conversing with the other three orphans. They planned to leave with the _Nautilus_ within the hour, taking the four Warriors home.

"What are you going from here?"

Arc jumped when Aga appeared beside him, lacking the armor he'd worn before, instead arrayed in Norune colors. His hair was shorter now, loose and uneven. It was probably cut off by Renee.

"I'll go to Saronia," Arc said, recovering from his shock. "I think I'll work in the libraries and update all the information we have to include the history and geographical information that we've gained in our time here."

"And?"

Arc watched Luneth grab Toan in a headlock. "I was thinking of coming back again to stay. In all the time we spent traveling, I didn't notice a lot of sages or scholars or libraries. I can go around and share information. Odin knows, I'm not much good at anything else."

"Don't want to settle down at home?"

"That would be a waste, over there. If I stay here, I can continue helping the Crystals, albeit in a sort of roundabout way. I can continue fulfilling my purpose."

Toan took Luneth in the stomach and tackled him to the ground. "I guess. With the _Nautilus_ , we can move between continents easily, at least. There's not much keeping me from visiting either side. Luneth also doesn't plan to stay in Ur. He's talking about traveling the world, like you did."

"And like you will," Aga said. "I suspect you'll find that the more you travel, the less you can be content to stay in one place. The thought of settling in a foreign land may _sound_ appealing, but after a year, you'll want to leave again."

"Maybe." There was probably a level of it necessary, if Arc was going to produce some halfway accurate records. He'd have to visit the individual villages and collect stories and data before he could compile it all into a comprehensible library. It would take years. "I'll probably want to find a centralized location to base my travels out of, though."

"I don't know about 'centralized,' but there's a quiet place north of here where you'll find the seclusion you need."

And he would need someone like Aga, who knew the place better than him. But Aga was going to stay in Norune with Renee and Toan, and that was quite a journey to make just for some information.

"Are you sure you don't want to come to Norune?"

Arc hesitated. Part of him wanted to, to try for the short time that he could to have a "normal" family and be the son that his parents had lost. But…

He felt the ghost of the metal slicing through his back.

"I think so," he said, swallowing. "It'll be hard enough for you to adjust to each other again. I don't want to add to that."

Aga nodded respectfully. "As you wish. But our doors will always be open."

"Right."

"Hey!" Arc cursed Luneth's new fae powers as Luneth popped in existence beside Arc. "What are you two talking about that we can't all participate in? Is it about me? About Refia? If it's gossip, I want in."

"Just our plans," Arc said, nudging Luneth's arm off his shoulder. "The possibility of staying in Norune and all that."

"Sounds great," Luneth said. "Are you gonna do it?"

"No, I already told you. I'm going to study in Saronia for a year and then collect stories in the east."

"Boring! You're going to drive yourself insane!" Luneth popped out of existence again, light trailing in his wake.

"He can be annoying sometimes," Arc muttered when Luneth reappeared below, dropping onto Ingus from a height. Ingus promptly swore loudly and tried to shake him off. "I'm going to miss him."

"Of course you will."

Aga disappeared then, jumping off the ledge. Arc didn't want to leave his family, not after so long. But he knew that if he were to go back now, he might never find the strength to leave again. And there were pieces of history in hiding, waiting for just the right person to come collect them. Not to mention the threat of the Cloud of Darkness, ever looming on the horizon.

And besides, it wasn't like he couldn't come visit every now and again. Perhaps he would find out how to replicate that map of Toan's, and find a way to move about more efficiently because he had so much work to do.

If only Ruby would agree to help him.

* * *

A/N: _And done. Might write some short oneshots taking place after the series, but this is the last chapter for this monster. Thanks to anyone who's actually read and finished the story, few as you might be. I realize this is a super niche party I've decided to write to, but hey. People always say write what you're passionate about, and I'm passionate about FFIII and Dark Cloud. So, have a 110k word story about adventure kid feelings. Hope you enjoyed it!_


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